Inside a Circle
I took the 7:10 into the city: an hour
ride taken so many times.
Most of the faces inside the car
I had seen before, others I had not.
I sat motionless, pretending
to be patient, wishful today
I would find the woman
whose ring I recovered eight day ago.
Reaching into my pocket
I pulled out the gold band
and held it between my thumb
and forefinger, her reflection
developing inside a circle
I would forever adore.
march, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
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