I remember having sort of a double date,
me with you, your red hair like a holy grail to me.
We were in the backseat of my friend’s car,
and I felt lucky to be with you.
We kissed for a while, and you pulled away
without saying a word. Why? I know not.
Annoyed, disappointed, I said nothing –
for the rest of the time you and I were
stranded in the back seat of that pine-scented car.
And I don’t remember much about that evening,
except my dream of having a red-haired
woman for a girlfriend or a wife
was buzz-killed that night.
Bob Boyd