It wasn't you that I saw in the park
the other evening, walking with that chick-
the moon was low and it was nearly dark.
The shadows played a cruel, heart-stopping trick.
He was your height, his shoulders your same size
and when he laughed, I thought my heart would burst,
but I knew not to trust my faulty eyes;
I found a pay phone, fumbled with my purse
and got you on the fist ring. Saved your bacon!
I hope that always, dear, I am mistaken.
[This message has been edited by Sharon (edited September 09, 2001).]
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