Poetry

Fin

At the station air flickered rain,
cuts and jolts, old movies playing out
unspooling at the end—

You forgot your bags
my scarf, escaped, flirted sultry
on the trembling tracks
waiting for the train

Tips of tongues had left behind 
things we wouldn’t name
to kiss at sunset, eyes closed—
light dying in our arms—
we couldn’t see beyond 
the frame

Words and photo © Jaime Greenberg, 2022