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July 7th it was - to be exact - on
that summer night in Waikiki,
when you sat alone with a friend and I
came in and changed all that - some
nineteen years now - to be exact.
why were you there, in that one spot
way in the back? I didn't know where
I was going, just weaving through
the crowded room unmet, until
meeting my future life - all on a
crazy, elated whim with two friends
upstairs who couldn't get in
wearing flip-flops, and they not
minding when I said,
"I'm going in for a few."
and in a few moments, after
a number hastily written, I
was gone (oh! delicate chance, indeed!)
but I called the next day and got
through immediately - once I saw
your transposition error in
the phone directory.
we'd wait six days more 'til our first
date, our patience rewarded though,
that we would later recount
to friends (with some pride):
"our first date? why it never ended!"
but that's another poem,
most probably a sonnet. |