Looking Through The Window
E
Ernestine Northover
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The waiting room was empty
when she entered through the door,
The train whistle reminded her,
of what she was here for.
Another fifteen minutes
until his train came in,
And would he recognise her,
her head was in a spin.
For it was simply ages
since she'd looked into his eyes,
And looking through the window,
saw the same blue in the skies.
Perhaps she shouldn't be here,
her husband she'd betray,
So with tears descending down her face,
she slowly walked away.
© Ernestine Northover
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