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An atmosphere I tend to think

Is like a premonition

It betrays a cheating heart at once

In silence if you’ll listen


It might be body language

It might be in the eyes

It might be in the words unsaid

It might be in the lies


An aftershave so innocent

But it's not the one you wear

It's on her dress and on her slip

Now what's it doing there?


What first gave you an inkling

From which suspicion grew?

What signs did you rely on

When looking for the truth?


What made you stop and wonder?

What sparked a young man's fear?

Was it something wholly tangible

Or was it just an atmosphere?


© Joseph G Dawson
09/07/2018 and 03/08/2015

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