A Poem for Rosemary

Upon leaving the theater

Met by the cool late winter night

The lights of Downtown Chicago


The usual enthusiasms of our

  Serious undergraduate years.

You and I and several mutual friends.

You from your world so foreign,

And I in mine, yet somehow linked,

Shoulders touching, we neared the corner,

Oblivious to the wind,

We to the right, others left to the street.

At that critical moment of fifty-fifty probability

Cries from our friends: Rosemary, Jeff?

Are you coming?

You in your world, and I in mine,

Drew a quick breath as the worlds stilled

And turned back.

For a brief moment I thought another possibility

The joyful act of union eerily sensed.

To this day I wonder how they get on in that other world.

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