No. 33

Today, I passed by No. 33 again
And like all the other times,
I imagine your face, your smile -
into beautiful and bright coloured murals,
then paint them out on the glass panes just below the gabble end of the first storey wall.

As with all the other times, once I turn the corner
I am confronted with the 'what ifs'

What if, I could smile at you
From across the room
What if I didn't have to stretch
My hand to touch your face
What if at sundown on some days
our shadows could stretch side by side
pruning the hedge of No. 33
What if...

I let you linger a while hoping that soon enough
Some other thought will nudge you along
It does not always work so sometimes
I have to shake my head in a conscious attempt
To clear you from my mind.

Not knowing kills me but on this I am sure
that whenever I pass by No. 33 again
I will always be willing to let you in.