That day came
as all the days plan to come
but seldom do,
as at eighteen
we visualize the future,
confident that
lack of money, boredom,
a wrong marriage, too
many children, neglected
teeth, are the result
of stupidity
and not in any way to happen
to us.
So it was a rare day of
strong sun, shimmering atmosphere.
Leaves scattered themselves
across the roads,children
threw off sweaters
they had been made to wear
and climbed forbidden trees.
That day came as
days so seldom do:
We met,
the ferry, the harbor
were beautiful.
The peeling red paint
on the boat's old railing
I would remember for fifty years:
Longer.