Until

This poem first appeared in the Loch Raven Review, Vol. 21, No. 2 in 2o25. You can find the review here: https://thelochravenreview.net

They sit across from each other
at a small table nestled in a quiet corner
of the now bustling restaurant.
Their voices are mere whispers,
inaudible to me merely 5 feet away.
They lean forward creating a human tent
over the half-eaten meals and now
empty wine glasses, forgotten.
In an odd unison they reach forward
and their fingers gently interlace.
Neither wears a wedding band on 
the ring finger but the residual depression
of the skin by the palm says that each
normally wears a wedding band,
but on this day and not this place,
and I know this meeting was to be
a secret poorly kept from sight.
He rises to leave, says in a barely
perceptible voice “until next month,”
she remains seated watching him
until he is out the door then she
makes her exit, eyes cast down 
avoiding all who might glance her way.