“A moment in your life,” she said,
“a moment that changed you forever.”
A bad boy,
banned from representing the school,
condemned to acting as a servant
to the chosen few,
those who were good enough to go.
They gathered early in the refectory.
I served them tea.
But first I salted the tea pot with Epsom Salts,
or something similar.
The tea pot frothed and foamed , then settled.
Later, the house master called me.
“Can you dance? he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Show me,” he said. He handed me a chair
and put a record on his gramophone.
I danced, six legs, to his satisfaction.
“Put on your Sunday suit,” he said.
“Be on your best behavior.
It appears we have suffered a bout
That’s where I met her.
Age seventeen. At a school dance.
The one. My one. The only one.
Sixty years later, we’re still together.
Writing this, I see us as we were back then.
My chest goes tight.
My eyes overflow with tears.