03 February 1999

In Glass

          Hearing the mechanical sigh of time moving by
          Standing underneath a florescent ceiling of sky he tries
          Stealing her image from the glass falling just past his grasp
          Gliding between the outside darkness and the walls of the subway

Unaware, she stares into the same window
Light masking his eyes as they hide in the glare
Asking hers to rise and meet his glance, but isn't chance so rare?
Her stop nears as seconds push the minute hand
She stands among the crowd crowded much too close and disappears
                         He fears he will never see her
                         No potential for connection                  
                         But perfection was found only in her reflection