A demain

A love-song sung in French

is most heartbreaking of all,

but all I have are these words

 they will have to do.

‘...a demain’ she said. I felt no sorrow

I kissed her again lived thinking of tomorrow.

 That was yesterday or yesterday, now

I don’t know what to do. All the colours of my heart

and the touches of her blue burnt eyes,

those yesterdays took from me.

I thought I saw her from a bus that took me far away.

She did not wave,

or smile that day, no,

she did not smile that first smile that gave my heart new rhyme.

Sometimes I see her in that mirror standing by my side

and she talks to me,

yes, she talks to me, ‘a demain’

she says though tomorrow is mine alone.

I left flowers there beside her stone

as rain kissed softly on the land

I told her ‘till tomorrow’, and it seemed as if I smiled

recalling that tomorrow was never far away.