Blurred Memory

She was not what I remembered,
A long-ago romance,
When one day, I think it was,
Just a simple happenstance –
That I bumped into Tess McFee,
Or she bumped into me.

Cold blue eyes held me there,
“Beg pardon,” all that I could say.
“The fault was mine,” she replied,
“I’m so out of it today.”
It was a little awkward so,
I turned as if to go.

See, we had parted long ago;
I don’t recall whose choice.
Yet suddenly, despite the years,
I recognized her voice,
And softly spoke my name to her –
Old memories to stir.

A shy smile slowly lit her face;
We found a place to sit,
Grabbed coffee after awkward hugs,
And chatted quite a bit;
Who married who, who caused a fuss;
But never spoke of us.

I spoke of Bobby Slaggett,
Ronald Hubbard, and Dan Schorr –
Boys who turned eighteen years ago,
Just in time for war.
And of the boys who left home then,
They all came back as men.

Dan came home beneath a flag –
It was given to his wife.
Ron found death more appealing
Than a quadriplegic’s life.
Some whose names I left unspoken,
Home whole too, but broken.        

Like Dan and Ron before him,
I suspect Bob’s gone now too.
Drugs at last cloaked and freed him
From the horrors that he knew.
Tess wondered if their sacrifice
Was just too steep a price.

With a second cup of coffee,
We brought up every name –
Of ‘boys’ and ‘girls’ we knew back then,
Their follies and their fame,
Then brought each other up to date
With news we’d heard of late.

Not all prom queens and football stars
But most back then had dreams.
The passing years some dreams had crushed;
Granted a few it seems.
Some struggle now with great success;
Some gladly cope with less.

Who married who, their seven kids,
Who since divorced and why?
Real reasons we may never guess –
Not them, or Tess, or I.
Two lone wolves back then, who still today,
Claim it’s the only way.

As we spoke of those still with us,
And those we knew who’d died,
Her voice went soft, her blue eyes too,
Yet never once she cried.
While all those ghosts we did discuss,
We not once spoke of us.

At one point I simply asked,
(Whatever was I thinking?)
“We should meet another time?”
My heart and hopes then sinking.
She squeezed my hand and faint hope stirred –
When, “Soon, real soon,” she purred.

I thought I saw a tiny tear
In one of Tess’s eyes
As the hour grew late and we stood,
Mumbling our goodbyes.
I saw her last glance back that day,
Then watched her walk away.

Quite foggy now the signs or clues
I must have simply missed.
Hoping for another chance,
I’ve a lengthy mental list.
In vain, I fear, because since then
I’ve not seen Tess again.

Two sets of memories now
Toss and tumble through my head.
Why so much was left unspoken
That evening when was said –
My last ‘goodbye’ to Tess McFee,
Or her ‘goodbye’ to me.

—

© spwilcenski September 9, 2023
Exposed by spwilcenwrites “Recent Creative Additions – September 10, 2023”