Afternoon Poem by Andrew Fincham

When I think of all I've ever wanted to do
It all comes back to you,
Whom I've loved.

Where years could pass in a look -
a hand -
a view -

To be over
Too soon

All secret
In an afternoon.

One waiting second:
Hour’s disappointment.

What can you say,
To we who were together for one day?

An afternoon was longer in your arm around my waist
and your breath cold wreathing about my face
and your eyes love.

These I have missed so much.