Shy

Amos tread in his black steel toe winter boots and his big beige coat, wandering through the lamplit gardens

He came to a walkway, which he followed, under bridges and through the woods he went

He arrived at a bench in a small clearing near the river, on the bench before him lay a girl

She had red curly hair and pale white skin

Amos sat on the bench and gazed into the sky

Stars, like eyes, the eyes stared back at him, they knew him, they see him every night

Nice night out tonight, int' it, Amos said, but the girl did not respond

I'm Amos, nice to meet you, still no response

She must be a little shy, Amos thought

I work at that shop on Line Street, the butcher, part time. I've seen you around

Amos