Lament of the Faint-Hearted

We spoke but once, and only just in passing

A word or two, a simple sentence; silence closing in behind it

Had we lingered to continue, I would not have really minded;

Her eyes alight with sparkles fairly dancing

I could have tarried. Late arriving home

My lukewarm dinner there congealed; a silent reprimand awaiting

Had I remained, held by her sibylline seduction so persuading

I might have then composed a different poem 

[previously published, Balestra Magazine, April 1,2025]