Iíve enticed you into town.
Pushing the boat out,
youíve agreed to coffee and cake.

You pick up crumbs on your fork,
play with them. Sitting in silence,
I catch the fragile smile,
all that will pass your lips.

Tomorrow youíll stay in your room again,
centre of your ever-shrinking world,
and draw me closer to the undertow.

Ann Gibson
If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Ann Gibson would be pleased to hear them.