When she looked at me

When she looked at me I thought she turned her head.
It was the slightest twist, a look of vague surprise.
She caught my eye, perhaps I caught her glance
At me. Another hour the moment would pass
As all moments pass into that River Lethe
As if they never happened.

Really nothing in that silent gym had happened.
I saw her slender form, her blue eyes, and flaxen head
Of hair. I noticed my pleasure in surprise
As if I might yet be worth a second glance.
It might be fun to talk with her, to pass
Some time by the River Lethe.

I wish I could drink from that River Lethe
And forget some things that happened
Long ago. I would turn my life and head
Another direction. I might surprise
Myself with contentment. There’d be no fiery glance
To throw me into confusion. I could pass

My life on quiet gentle trails, explore a safer pass
Through lower mountain gaps and sip from Lethe
Streams both up and down. Whatever happened
Would not be so important. I’d let a wiser head
Than mine deal with the occasional surprise.
I might pause only in the forest clearings to glance

With satisfaction on my life. Once a casual glance
Through a restaurant window – I often eat alone to pass
The time -- sent me plunging for the River Lethe.
A one-time lover, absently staring through the pane, happened
To walk by as I raised my head.
We shared a painful start, a shocked surprise.

In that brief moment of mutual, unwanted surprise
I saw her lovely, familiar face transformed from empty glance
To angry fear. In that same instant my quiet passing
of an evening meal, left me thirsty for the waters of the Lethe,
Suddenly deeply shaken and scared, as if it happened
Over and over again, a curse upon my head.

I’ll turn my head, I’ll be surprised;

I’ll steal a glance as you pass by,

And drown us both in Lethe’s stream, as if we never happened.