At the bus terminal
a handsome young man asked me the time.
‘Quarter past nine’ I said.
Looked at him
and saw that he struggled to remember.
’Have we met before?’ he asked!
‘No I don’t think so.’
Unwittingly he had seen his futures face
and I with deep regret, had seen my youth.
Last time we met
he was a toddler,
didn’t bother to tell him
that I was his dad
bet his mum
had spun him a fine tale.
Slowly he boarded a coach,
turned my way twice,
still trying to remember.