It's All the Same to Me

She hailed a cab on State Street
And drove off in the rain.
She had a gracious countenance
And I saw her not again.

 

What is this haunting echo

Suggesting we had met before?
Perhaps in other torrents
On a distant rain-drenched shore.

I know I’m prone to fancy

And my mind plays games with me.
But I swear there, for a moment
I saw more than I should see.

Were she and I once lovers?

Did I say, “Farewell, Marie?”
Did I set sail in my vessel?
And was I lost at sea?

Or were she and I both mates once?
Did love die before it began?
Was there heartache in the mixture
When love slipped through our hands?

Did I call her “Lovely Susan”?

Was her pet name “Turtle Dove”?
Did we spend ourselves in laughter?
Was I smitten with her love?

The intrusive sounds of busses
And the cacophony of noise
Shook from my head the magic
That transpires ‘tween girls and boys.

She was a fare for a yellow taxi

Just a woman from the street.
Chances are nothing happened
And we never once did meet.

But there remains a wistful hunger

That makes my head to turn
Sets afire my bosom
And makes my spirit burn.

I may never know the secret
Of subdued memory.
It’s best to leave it lonely
And it’s all the same to me.