I met her at a diner, she was sitting at the counter,
A slim, attractive woman, dressed in dark slacks and a sweater.
She was drinking coffee, I said, "Please, would you pass the sugar?
It's raining cats and dogs outside, just not my kind of weather."
"It beats the snow and ice," she said, "and ducks find it a pleasure."
"I laughed, "You're right, but we both could do without that pleasure."
We rambled on, agreed mass transit would be better,
That traffic was awful, the day couldn't get much wetter.
I liked how she looked at me, music in her laughter,
It was open, unforced, relaxed, and then I wondered;
What if we had met before, when my life was freer?
I put the thought away; a silly thing to ponder.
I stood up, told her goodbye, paid, and left the diner.
Now and then, I think of her, of a pleasant stranger
I spoke to, on a rainy morning I remember.