Watching over looking glasses,
Dusk crept in from outside.
The black cat parks upon her window ledge
And darkness merging into light.
Dancing in her room as a candle flame,
Shades of clouds drift by.
He is present at his window again,
Sipping a coffee cup of smooth cognac.
Nodding his head,
His shadow nods back,
An exasperated beat in a rappers voice,
And the difference between them is apparent:
Hers – ageing years –
Henna hair wrapped in purple Alice band,
At odds with pink flowered silver studded pinafore
She always wore between 8 and 9.
His – energy of youth –
Ecru coloured wave-cap tugged scalp tight,
At odds with pects bulging string vest,
He always wore between 8 and 9.