and no one knows

I draw the outline of your body 

against the empty blue sky. 

The air is displaced only for a moment, 

then returns to its former self, quiet, 

indistinct amidst the whispering 

of trees and witch grass. 

It is early in the day, not yet autumn, 

And no one knows you have 

been there but me. 

 

[Greg Watson, 'A Brief Encounter' from Things You Will Never See Again]