Night walks

A glance towards left,
right, before taking the first step
when the man is standing
and flashing red.
Her dimly lit figure
stands alone by the footbridge.
Horse hooves are pounding
the cobbled pavement.
Autumn leaves are crackling
with the wind's gentlest breath.
Ever so slowly she turns her head.
It starts to rain.
I am left walking alone,
as the jumbo jet —
lights flashing like a giant star —
prepares to land in the airport nearby.
I still see her hat,
ribbons and lace,
her parasol and little bag,
and the hint of a smile on her face.
Why does it take forever
to reach the car park
on a cold, wet night
when silence will not leave me alone?
It was on a night like this
when I first tasted her sweet breath.
That warmth and softness: where skin meets satin.
At last my cabriolet:
no coach man; no hooves;
no whip; no lamp.
I have a key.
It will take me to:
a warm soup; a hot bath;
and another sleepness night.