Wes And Jane Poem by Bill Galvin

My to-go pizza is cooling down in the box on the bar,
But the jazz pianist is calming and convincing,
And the music is sounding better.

I am mid-Saturday night at The Tavern,
Where Blues reigns on Wednesday,
But Jazz cools and swings on Saturday;
And I only meant to stop in for a moment.

Sinatra's "My Way", as sung by Steve, rouses Jane,
As she stands, inviting Wes to dance close and slow…
And they move in the rhythm of love, each grinning,
He rubbing her back… both with eyes closed…
The only couple openly cuddling here this eve.

They are mid-eighties, and very much within their love,
Which does frame the warm image of their life together.

Wes usually dresses in baggy, knee-length shorts,
With a comfortable, muted, plain red T-shirt…
Jane in flowing, flowery, layered tops and long skirts,
Reflective of hipper times.
Each has close-cropped, grayed hair.

We met a couple of times before,
And we talked a bit at their table one night…
He was a jazz DJ at a college radio station,
Way back when.
Tonight, on the way out, I walk over to shake his hand,
As he stands at the bar to re-order their wine;
After saying hello, and then shaking Jane's hand,
I'm not sure she remembers that last week
She asked me what was my road sign,
And I replied what does that matter; but, she insisted;
"Libra", I said… she looked at her husband,
"He's Libra, too." Wes just raised his eyebrows.

But, before I left, I had to stop to see Wes and Jane…
"Nice to see you again, Bill, " Wes says.
After the pleasantries, I shake his hand once more -
"I love your love, Man, " I confide…
"Thank you, Bill… thank you, " says he,
As they keep on gently paddling,
Looking back upstream occasionally
Upon their long lifetime of love-borne memories.

8-27-2016