The Thinker

Maybe she was just looking,
there didn't have to be anything behind it.
There was a bird off near the jetty,
that had to be it.

But maybe she knew I saw her.

Maybe she knew I would be there too.
Maybe I should've said something.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

She could've come home,
and when she woke up,
I'd be there, coffee in hand.
I'd have to tell her about my dream that night,
she'd love to hear she was in it.
She was in it.
Maybe she'd like that,
maybe she'd like knowing I think about her.
Maybe we could do this every morning.
Make a thing of it.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

But she's happy now,
right?
I've professed what I've to say.
At least to myself.

She'll turn around,
find him sneaking up on her.
They'll kiss.
Maybe I'll walk home now.