The Lost Poem
Thank you to my anonymous editor The paper lay on the grass next to the secluded park bench. It was folded in half. He picked it up without thinking. As he was about to throw it away he noticed a lipstick kiss on it. He couldn’t resist opening it. Had he intercepted a love note? The loneliness he found in the lines of the poem showed he hadn’t. ‘I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what he looks like. I don’t know how we’ll meet. I know I’m waiting! I know there’s an empty spot for him to...