While a Guitar Played.

A guitarist 

on the CD player 

plucked cool. 

You wondered if 

she regretted 

not marrying you 

but some other. 

But you had the kiss 

years before. 

You saw her a few months 

before she died. 

Her brother told you 

of her passing 

and cancer won. 

The Jazz moved on, 

the guitar and drums 

combating in coolness. 

The afternoon sun shines, 

but dark clouds 

threatening rain. 

In another place, 

in another time, 

she may have said yes 

and cancer not there. 

But just a daydream 

of wishful thinking, 

a different scenario. 

But you had 

that first kiss through.