Sandra M. Gilbert

More than a third of a century later,
meeting for the first time in almost all those years,

we face each other’ s still somewhat familiar faces
across a table in a California restaurant,

and wonder why we did it, why we suddenly said
that night in July in Greenwich Village

“Let’ s go to Connecticut,” and got on a train
and ended up at midnight in Old Greenwich, Connecticut,

holding hands on an empty road that wound past
serious grown-up sleeping houses....