by Carol Schoen
In the dour light of a Cambridge afternoon
We threw Pooh sticks off the bridge,
raced to see whose stick had won,
chanted bits of half-remembered lines.
Wandering back on Brattle to traffic jams
in the Square, we examined the books
at the Coop, ate popcorn in the U.T.
had a beer at O’Conners, held hands, kissed.
We walked up Garden Street to the dorms
sat on the steps, chatted with friends
unwilling to part, unable to stay,
we stretched time to catch the moment’s joy.
I recall each minute in that perfect day,
but I suspect it never really happened.
Carol Schoen wrote her first poems for Sarah White’s study group and has been chugging along happily ever since