Down a winding road

Down a winding road


There, I was strolling along the countryside,
A stockade fence leaning, brown-green faded,
grass, unpaved road with scattered specks
of crush run. As I approached the downward
steep spiral twist, leading to nowhere sure.
Worn rooftops, where children were born, and
warm memories of a mother’s love.
There, perched beneath the skyline.
Two cardinals began to whistle as if to say,
Hello, as I passed. Daydreaming and a bit forlorn,
 a mist began to fall, I tugged on my wool coat,
tighter, flip the collar to prevent the drops from
invading, what held my attention.
Looking for some escape from the
wounded heart. The cardinals had reminded me,
of a love lost, the feelings of betrayal, my self-worth.
The question is why?
The winding road led to a quaint Café, a rustic façade,
with white painted shutters. I entered the café and took,
a seat at a corner table, my back against the wall.
The attendant came over to take my order, I asked for,
 a cup of black tea, to knock the chill off from the mist,
and sadness. Across from, where I sat was an elegantly,
dressed, snow-white-haired gentleman, with bronze features.
As our eyes made contact, he began to motion, me over.
There, I was in this place for the first time and was,
 being invited to join this mysterious fella. As we engaged
 in small talk, there on his right hand was a beautiful gold,
 signet ring with the letter A in old English script, sipping
 our tea, I excused myself to visit the men’s room. Upon my return,
 the gentleman was gone, there in the center of the table resting,
against the small jar of honey, was left a note on parchment,
embroidered in gold, stamped with the English letter A.
I unfolded the note, the words leaped from the page.
It's not the first love you lose, that's hard to forget,
it's the last.