We parked up three exits pasts Memory Lane,
you pushing keys on an old Nokia brick,
waving it across my seat for signal
while I sipped water,
bottled and lukewarm.
I didn’t say this was a waste,
though it was
You and your chase
for old conversations,
an old haunt
you forgot and then remembered.
I stayed silent,
and watching you wave.
Written for Inspiration Call: Creative Talents Unleashed list three.