David M. Harris
Sometimes I see a young, attractive
couple leaning close, a few tables away
from us — Judy, me, our daughter — ignoring
us and everybody else in Pasta Antonio,
and I wonder what adventures followed
yours with me. They’re holding hands now.
Forty-mumble years ago,
in a Hungarian diner in New Brunswick,
that was us; ten years ago it was me and Judy.
Still, sometimes, but not
in front of Hinda. “Eew, gross.”
Kathy, you and I together are forever
nineteen. Sending this letter,
even knowing your address,
might unleash time,
might transmute all that was. Flesh to flesh
is always, for you and me,
an original world, embedded in past
time, eternally fresh.
About the writer:
David M. Harris’s work has appeared in Pirene’s Fountain (and in First Water, the Best of Pirene’s Fountain anthology), Gargoyle, The Labletter, The Pedestal, and other places. His first collection of poetry, The Review Mirror, was published by Unsolicited Press in 2013.