Anthony James Leahy

Taking breakfast on the veranda
the parade bustles beneath
I people watch and drift into thoughts
of a spring once shared
when Angel was the freshness
of a breeze that traced my lips.
I light a cigarette as I endeavour
to tease bacon morsels trapped
between my teeth
they serve as a brief distraction
from the exquisiteness of the moment
I allow the tang to linger
as I reminisce our looping
and smile as a satisfying fulfilment
meanders through my being
and begin to take in the wisps
of white clouds that will soon become
a carriage to her beauty.