On Not being Quite Specific Enough
An Athabascan lady and a young Mauritian man
Met on the bus while shuttling to the airport in Japan
And planned a summer get-together in the town of Dent,
But didn’t think of all details—yet still, one day they went
To meet each other in that little place—the town so small
They didn’t guess there would be need for detailed plans at all—
Sadly, the lady was in Minnesota, with no clue
Her friend was off in Cumbria, the Dent of English hue,
Completely unaware as well that continents away
His lady-friend awaited him, unknowing, that same day—
And so they never met again, each sad the other failed
To know how much they’d hoped to meet, and what it had entailed
To reach their distant rendezvous and keep their destined date,
And neither learned there were two towns named Dent until too late.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Oh dear – poor souls.
🙂 Mandy
With my ridiculous sense of direction (well, utter lack thereof), I feel a certain kinship with them! 🙂
That must have put quite a dent in their plans for a shared future.
🙂 You got there first !!
Not to worry; all replies are considered equally proviDential. 🙂
Apparently any such plans were impruDent.
I’m not British, so I don’t normally drop my r’s. That said, I hope your rejoinder wasn’t meant to be impuDent.
Love it, Kathryn! The way of the world today, I guess, for those who meet, but never do. 🙂
As much as I believe there are multitudes of unseen connections in this universe of ours, I suppose I have to imagine there are equal quantities of near-misses going on constantly! 😉
Telecommunications must have been down for these two…
Hmmm. Maybe *they* were on the aforementioned vacation a little too electronics-freely.