Beach Rites

 

We met, small miracle, at a party where

     we knew not a soul;

I complimented the color on her toes,

     she made fun of my clothes.

Time flew; we sipped watery wine, nibbled

     stale bread,

And when the music got loud, we leaned 

     close to hear what the other had said.

 

Later, under a blanket of stars, we shared

     our stories, mine, a boring whine, hers,

     shorter, sadder than mine.

And when tears fell from her eyes, I knelt

     to kiss them dry and thought I heard her 

     whisper: "I forgive you, too."