She had fallen in love with another man,
nothing much I could do about that,
so I moved out and into a log cabin nearby.
She wanted to retain our friendship and
took to visiting me, sometimes alone and
on occasions with her new man,
which made me feel sad, jealous and resentful,
suspecting that it gave her pleasure
to be desired and loved by two men
and decided that I had to end these painful encounters.
One afternoon when she knocked on my cabin’s door
I peered through the curtains and noticed
she had brought me a basket of food,
but I didn’t open,
pretended to be out,
she visited a few more times;
but as the door was always firmly locked
she stopped coming.
As time passed,
the ache and sense of loss eased,
until a fateful day when I ran into her
as she came out of a furniture shop.
We spoke briefly, like strangers,
but her scent, her very being made me dizzy.
I kept my composure and we parted with a nod.
Next day I put my cabin up for sale
and moved far away;
but wherever I live, her perfume still lingers
in late summer evenings.