We were walking down a Westport street
\none summer night
\nafter seeing band.
\nSomeone had asked me to dance
\nand, not paying any attention to the man’s face,
\nI’d demurred.
\nIn your penchant to reinforce the temporariness of
\nour arrangement, you suggested we walk to another club and come back for the car.<\/p>\n
How far we got down the street The moment after impact I remember you standing over me, Later, after our respective healing times, I think of that night We were walking down a Westport street one summer night after seeing band. Someone had asked me to dance and, not paying any attention to the man’s face, I’d demurred. In your penchant to reinforce the temporariness of our arrangement, you suggested we walk to…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":59,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-55407","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-marathon-poem"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55407","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/59"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=55407"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55407\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":55613,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/55407\/revisions\/55613"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=55407"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=55407"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=55407"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nor what we talked about,
\nI can’t remember.
\nBehind us, headlights and the impossible moment of
\nthinking,
\nno, that can’t be<\/em><\/p>\n
\neverything – police cars and lights – was in my view,
\nbut nothing – including the stranger who leaned down solicitously and stole my purse – was in my focus.<\/p>\n
\nyour hand on my shoulder,
\nsteadying yourself
\nas much as reminding me
\nI was ok as you stroked my hair.<\/p>\n
\nwe made it part of our banter.
\nWe weren’t a couple; we were survivors of the flesh.
\nIt was easier to see how ill-equipped we were to commit to a future
\nneither of us saw the other belonging.<\/p>\n
\nbut not often.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"