I flipped a silver coin into the air,
Deciding thus upon which road to take—
That shining disc to mitigate the dare
Of walking past your house and garden gate.
For many months our hearts had been estranged
But your place lay en route to village pier,
And my desire—not more than to arrange—
Swift passage to a land away from here.
Perhaps I might accost to say goodbye;
Perhaps I might a stony heart so feign;
Perhaps a sullen tear in your sweet eye
Might lead you yet into my arms again;
The coin flies up, I catch and hold in dread:
That in my palm shall lie a tail or head.

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.