the coffee table

The wooden bench at the bus stop

From the window of the bus
I stare at the empty wooden bench
Drenched with pouring rain
Where you and I used to wait for the bus
Next to eachother.
I'd secretly glance at you
While you silently read your book.

There's one day I remember especially well.
When it was raining heavily
- just like now -
And I had forgotten my umbrella
You noticed my soaked too-light jacket and
Held your umbrella over me
I exactly remember how it looked
A splash of colours
Like the night sky
And the rythm of rain drops drumming on it
Matched my heartbeat.

There's this other day.
The sun shining so high I could barely look at you
As you sat down next to me as usual.
To this day I don't know how I've
Dropped my sunglasses to the ground.
As I reached to grab them
Our fingers brushed as you
Leaned forward to do the same
I prayed you don't notice how red I was
And blamed it on a sun burn.

Then one day you disappeared.
Maybe you were late the first time.
Sick the second.
By the third time I had lost most of my hope.
It seemed you were gone.
Everytime I drive by this wooden bench
I remember you and wonder
If somewhere on this world you do the same.
Drive by some bench listen to the pouring rain
Or look into the blinding sun I suddenly come to your mind.
The bus drives on
Down the road
and the bench slowly
goes out of sight.