Friday, September 16, 2011

His move

It's your move.

The words startled him;
his head jerked up,
he shifted in his seat.
For the briefest of moments, their knees touched,
bare flesh warm on bare flesh.
He quickly moved his leg away
as though he had seared it on a stove's lit burner.

It's your move, came the repeated words.

Their eyes locked,
one soul peering deep into another.

What happens next is up to you.

The clear invitation echoed in his head
and pierced his heart.
His breathing quickened as he pondered the words,

envisioning what might be,
sensing opportunity,
imaging possibilities of joy,
considering consequences.

He broke the gaze and looked down,
staring intently,
absorbed a whirlpool of thought,
momentarily lost in eddies of emotion.
After an eternal ninety-seven seconds,
he leaned forward and, smiling broadly,
reached out his hand and took
queen's knight to c3.

16 September 2011
Shire on the Hudson 

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