People you meet in pubs - III

I didn’t know exactly what was wrong with him,

or right with him, more like. He was standing at the bar

as I entered, smiling openly at me as if we had known

each other for years and he held my elbow as I pretended

to understand what he was saying, and we bought each other

drinks and later I drove him home with the roof down 

which he loved as we sped through the warm summer night,

the air thick with a taste of damp meadows and insects.

You came with me next time, and he was there again

and I introduced you, and you made a fuss of him,

and later he took me aside in a low whisper

and said he fancied you, and I didn’t know what to do.

John H Davies

24th February 2011