I'd like to know if she remembers
Our first meeting, how our hands
Naturally moved to hold the other;
The first time I skipped school with her
And we planned our lives.
The times I listened to her decry the tyranny
Of her mother, gave support without agreeing,
As parents do, as we did.
Does she shudder at the early passions
On sand and grass and water?
Our speechless Sunday drives in her father's car
Before five more days of solitude.
The time I was home for lunch and she
Sat sipping tea with my mother.
Does she recall the rides we hitched
To snatch a visit with each other.
The friends who put us up, put up with us
Because they knew we were in love.
The many moves, the houses too,
The dinners out we could hardly afford.
The new, the used, the jobs and promotions,
And all our disappointments.
Does she ever think about these?
We camped away from home just to be alone
In leaky tents and mouse-filled cabins,
In places we explored together,
We laughed, cried, kept silent, walking everywhere.
We vowed before a crowd that covered sick and able.
We raised babies, shared friends, mourned our losses.
Does she remember any of this, I'd like to know.
Or did my disease of loyal lies
Erase all those years ago?
Francie Lynch's Other Poems
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