Sometimes, we don’t remember the details exactly as they really happened. And maybe, after all, the devil really is in the details.I remember it well,
I said,
and you said
don’t,
but I did anyway.
you looked so-
no, really, you did.
and I laughed to your telling
as you told about
him and, um…
I remember it well.
we took the five
forty-eight
and arrived
early
and, well,
you know.
It was hot that day,
your hair long
and let down.
I wore that shirt
you never liked.
and you handed me-
no, really, you did.
well, anyway,
we walked through
the park.
I think mid-afternoon.
-are you certain?
I remember it well.
your perfume tickling
my nose
and that scarf
wild in the breeze
no?
but I thought…
I was so sure.
did we have coffee?
I thought not.
it snowed.
really?
oh, yes-August
of course
did I have the Buick
then?
Ford?
are you sure?
was your mother-
no, I suppose not
and-
uh huh,
but I did love you,
did I not?
yes
and you me?
of course.
see,
I remember it well.
