When I bump into her
on the street,

she offers a vague smile,
then swift wit, profanity.

She’s back. Intimate as freckles.
Dark as long-brewed tea.

We walk along in perfect sync,
laugh so hard our noses drip.

Dipping into alleyways,
we browse shabby bookstores,

shop antiques, bounce and hum
to all the stores’ sort-of-songs.

Abruptly as she appeared,
she’s gone.

Leaves from the diner’s back door
while I’m digging for the tip.

When she turns up again,
in a week or a month,

I’m elated –
she’s nonchalant;

acts as if we’ve been hanging out
all along.

KATE B.D. (KATE DICKSON) was raised in suburban Long Island and rural South Jersey.  Those early places continue to impact her as she explores nature and human nature in her poems. A musician who has evolved into poet and painter, Kate B.D. uses art to look inside and under and between.