the button came from your coat

it came off on the train……………not sure why i put it in my pocket them……..but i suppose i know why today…………..

i was a younger poet then and my first book was carried across the pond………….you liked my work and wrote to me and a relationship was born……

i asked to come and you said yes and the whirlwind had begun……………you lived in Kent outside of London in the town of Turnbridge Wells………….

your family welcomed me………….we went to Paris, Germany and Rome and played like this would go on forever and then the three weeks were done………i begged you to come with me and you begged me to stay…………..we were doomed from the start……….to young to leave our homes………………

i didn’t see you that morning your Father drove me to catch the plane, he said it broke his heart to see his daughter in such a state…………i tried to apologize but he said ”it’s okay, she loves you mate”……………

i looked out the window as the plane left the ground and i felt your button in my pocket and the tears came tumbling down…………………………..

still have it and it keeps those 3 weeks together………….the button