the boys in my old gang
are senior partners. They start up
bald like baby birds
to embrace retirement.
At the altar of surrender,
I met you
in the hour of credulity.
How your misfortune came out clearly
to us at twenty.
At the gingerbread casino,
how innocent the nights we made it
on our Vesuvio martinis
with no vermouth but vodka
to sweeten the dry gin--
the lash across my face
that night we adored . . .
soon every night and all,
when your sweet, amorous
repetition changed.
Thinking of the past can bring some of the best memories. I love thinking back to my childhood; it always brings a smile to my face or I cannot stop laughing. And when you leave, it is always fun to get back with people. That will be me next year. Next year I will leave to go to college and when I come back I will want to reunite with others.
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