When

When? my mind asked,
when I saw the summer of her
talking on the sidewalk
and I stopped just short to politely wait.

When? my mind asked,
when Santa dropped off her gift,
when she accused me of being sneaky
with a sneaky smile.

When? my mind asked,
when we sat down menu-waiting,
thirsty, talking about her eyes,
sipping on blind conversation.

When? my mind asked,
between the fallen knife
and the plate-clanged fork,
trading prawn for chicken.

When? my mind asked,
by the umbrella, to the left,
further to the left, shuttered
manytimes that moment.

When? my mind asked,
when her pink toes scraped
through the grasses, when mine
yearned to join.

When? my mind asked,
when bouncing we stepped
around, by and onto
sticks and leaves.

When? my mind asked,
when we threaded held arms
through the needle of her
laughter and mine.

When? my mind asked,
when her lips moved and sound came,
when we would have shared a kiss
had when been then.

When? my mind asked,
when she opened her gift
and she came to my side
and I held summer inside.

When? my mind asked,
as we walked the minute to the bus
and we stopped by the smoke
and traffic noise and thankstood.

When? my mind asked,
as I sat in a seat next to another,
and my mind asked when?
and did not give an answer.