Where I Met You

I met You in a quiet train station.

Silent as the newborn sun;

quiet like a patch of breath.

Your heartbeat filled my ears till

my temples became throbbing gongs.

I have seen You before,

in the lounge on the 96th floor,

or lost in the New England hills.

But tonight I was reminded.

We wandered the Institute

with its checkered tile floors and rouge lockers,

following the sound of singing throats

until we found You.

I saw You again outside the ice cream shop.

Your hand held a poor paper cup that rattled

as the snow fell into it.

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