I awoke happy, the house 
Was strange, voices 
Were across a gap 
Through which a girl 
Came and paused, 
Reaching out to me — 

Then I remembered 
What I had dreamed — 
A girl 
One whom I knew well 
Leaned on the door of my car 
And stroked my hand — 

I shall pass her on the street 
We shall say trivial things 
To each other 
But I shall never cease 
To search her eyes 
For that quiet look —


 = Leon Branton