Next year

It seemed to be a good conversation.  Then I was left with see you next year.  Maybe that's right, I think, maybe that's right.  Still... it was a good conversation.

I’ll see you

Next year

She says

Even after proclaiming

That people say

They want to get together

But then

Never call.

I’ll see you next year

Though if it’s sooner

That might be o.k. too

She says

Landing it in my lap.

We only live twenty minutes

Apart

O.K.

Next year it is then,

Unless we just happen

To pass each other

On the street,

Just happen to recognize

Each other.

Just happen

To have time for coffee.