Girl Reading in a Bookshop

I’d like to go back and say something
To the blonde girl in the Barbour jacket.
Sitting on the floor reading John Donne,
She might have been in her own room.
I loomed over her like an inspector of poetry
While her earnest gaze searched my face.
Blue eyes, serious and searching;
I’ll always have an image of her,
Reading there as if her life depended upon it.