Never

It's the wrong time for hoping,

he muttered, putting

the old rifle on its pegs

above the door.  We'll not have

meat before the first snow

when rabbits are seen

like polka dots against

the white muslin of that dress

you wore the night of Jake's

wedding.  You thought

I didn't remember, but

you were wrong. I see you

yet coming across the lawn,

skipping to the beat

of that low base

marking the rhythms

neither of us understood.

You refused to dance

and I left knowing

what never would be mine.