Before (a poem)

Something in the way her hair moved
when she rode her bike.
Something in the way she smiled
when she looked at a random child
playing with its mother.
Something in the way
she didn't seem to notice
an upcoming truck.
Something in the way
she pulled on her brakes
and put her feet on the street,
almost falling over,
smiling at her own clumsy self,
taking her time to continue her way.

There was something about her
that told him
- with absolute uncertainty -
he had never seen her before.

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Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon

Apology

'I hope you'll accept my apology.'
'I will. When you offer it and I sense that you mean it.'
'I just offerered you an apology!'
'No, you did not. You simpley expressed the wish I'd accept it when offered.
That's not the same thing as actually apologizing.'

Which begs the question: why do some people find it so extremely hard
to apologize for any wrongdoing?

Governments are reluctant to apologize for atrocities committed in the past:


Here's a beautiful way to apologize:


So, tell me, did you ever apologize? How and why?

Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon

Not stupid (a poem)

Time was trivial to them,
to the birds and wind.
The ray of sunlight that lit up her smile
lingered on her face, then moved to his.

Together they were silent.
Together they were alone.
Pure bliss.

Of course they knew
the moment wouldn't last.

They were in love,
not stupid.

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Want to read (more of) my short stories? My author page: Terrence Weijnschenk at Amazon