Late To Meet

Tea for one
And my phone
On the table,
I flick through photos
On my digital camera
As an excuse
To keep my head down
And avoid eye-contact.

I try not to show
Traces of displeasure,
As a younger me once would,
At news of
A friend's late night
Of drinking too much
And being late to meet
As a result.

The tea is hot and sweet,
The pictures colourful,
And for a change
It is not raining in Limerick.
Johnny Cash sings of ghost riders
As the sun breaks through
The cloudy sky,
And slowly I relax.


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