Jejudo, South Korea
The square hats of blue dispersed as I walked
Through crowds of parents, brothers, sisters, friends
I didn't know in a high school football stadium.
We talked about it, said I'd try, I thought
Myself a busy man twelve years ago.
Arrived in time to see the last few stages
Of this American rite, important to be
A little late, an idiot once said.
I knew she wouldn't be looking for me
But I moved to the grass and searched this mesh
Of suits and gowns and Sunday church dresses.
The crowd parted (maybe there is a god).
She stood about fourteen feet from where
I scanned and judged -- a half-smile, a glance of leg.
In slow, confident steps toward her lover,
She quietly voiced: "Hey --"
Her ex-partner came and grabbed from the right.
He tried to kiss her but was given a cheek,
"Your parents are over here, come with me."
I stopped and looked at the sky, sighed and wiped
My face, saw her best friend, hugged her instead.
Your college boyfriend is so nice I would
Later hear she said. A secret for twelve
Of the fourteen months we'd been together.
Nothing more to do, I walked to my car
And heard my own steps on the sidewalk blocks,
They echoed my thoughts, my own questions: Why
He got to kiss and I was left with "Bye"?
If I am bad for her is she good for me?
How did she get to my car before I did?
She sat on the hood, legs crossed, hands behind her,
That half-smile as she finished: "Hey you.
Let's go home."
[This message has been edited by Brad (edited 01-17-2000).]