Deja Vu

we've met before...

Déjà Vu

They passed on the street
And only a few steps further,
Turned to face each other. Smiling.
Each looking at a face it knew.
But from where?
Had she lived before this meeting?
This time?
Had he always been the 'he' he knew?
Or was there something before
This moment’s mutual acknowledgement?
Only face?
Or deeper?
Knowing? Heart? Soul?
He longed to ask her,
But the stars proscribed his question.
And his dream.
Time. Place. Position.
Each, like a scalpel, cut through
Love and longing.
And so he turned, as she did,
To continue walking
Into a future apart.

Alan Turpie