What did we do, that summer?
Aside from live on plums and canned corn?
We read Dylan Thomas.
You had red shoes.
I had a thrift store bowling jacket, pink and black.
We cut our hair short.
I thought I was in love.
You thought you were heartbroken.
It was all new.
We saw that movie 17 and a half times.
What was it?
The funny one with the dead man and the boat.
One day we fell asleep at the matinee
And missed our bus.
The plums appear every summer
And I try to remember,
As I drop them into the paper bag,
That what we have is less important
Than what we discover.