Rupert Loydell writes

FERMENTATION

She looked like someone I didn’t know yet,
so it was hard to say hello. But there was
something I recognised, a premonition
that meant I knew she would turn up again
in a few years, for a proper introduction.

Peter brought his wife along. There she was,
the person I had seen running along the street.
In a similar way I realised Martin had sold me
LPs in the record shop near school, and Susan
had been a librarian when I’d first borrowed books.

People waiting to meet, bump into each other
before they are ready, wires and pathways crossed,
friendships not quite fermented or ready to happen.
Now there are short silences, brief notes in the post
or via email, so few new names to learn.

 
 Deja Vu -- Majd Ramadan