chicken breast with wine sauce

i watch you walk
away, in your tall
fur lined boots,
snapping through
the parking lot
after our dinner date.
you are on your phone
already, carrying
in the other hand
a styro-foam container
full of your left
over dinner, a
chicken breast with
wine sauce and
some asparagus stalks,
salted and buttered,
and i see you step
into a pot hole,
buckling your knee,
which will never
be the same, and go
down, rolling over
in the street, the
chicken breast
and asparagus,
and phone flying
in the air,
sliding beneath an
oncoming car, it's
highbeams flashing
in your pretty face,
now caught in a frozen
grimace. and i can't
help but wonder if
things would have
been different if
we had liked each
other, and stayed at
the table a little
longer, held hands,
had coffee and dessert.