The First Day I Met You

was in the summer, when the days didn’t want
to assuage themselves from the nights. There was plenty of communicating in the way of phone calls and letters. But when I espied you for the first time coming around the corner

I felt as if I was watching the tall ships standing stately
in the harbor. And I stayed to my post as a Yeoman Warder
at the tower because I couldn’t move. My eyes were
paralyzed too. They couldn’t flutter. My heart took over. But my

arm had life of its own. It flung out as a hunter’s rifle,
aiming itself directly at you, as if you were a buck in the forest
and I hadn’t eaten a thing for days. My hand took your hand. In that one moment the world stopped and I got off. I didn’t want to

release your hold. Remember, you tugged a little, as a foot does
when its stuck inside a very tight boot that’s hard to remove. I didn’t want to let go, same as the summer, when the days didn’t want to assuage themselves from the nights, same as a Yeoman Warder at the tower, held in place by electric light.