The Prom Queen and the Quarterback

Friday night, a bar downtown,

beneath the swirling dots

of disco lights,

seated at a table by the door,

I come across a Cheerleader

from my high school days,

having a Martini with

the Quarterback she married.

 

Even in forgiving light,

they both show age and wear,

definitely beyond the pale,

neither hearty, neither hale.

 

I must admit to some perverse delight,

seeing them this summer night.

delight they have not weathered well.

Back in our high school days they would not tell

a guy like me the time of day.

I was of the hapless, nameless, many.

In all the social spare change,

another tarnished penny.

 

Now this life has caught us three,

in the softer light of whiskey,

opening like a flower,

then passing us as swiftly.

 

Suddenly I see the equalizing pain,

knowing in the end we're all the same.

Holding out my hand I heartily exclaim,

“How very nice to see you both again.”