Happy “meeting anniversary” to my wonderful husband Mark. (April 20, 1977, aboard the LIRR)
Dear Long Island Rail Road, my debt
To your system, I’ll never forget.
Back in Seventy-Seven
Your train car was heaven:
‘Twas the place where my spouse and I met.
(More epistolary poems here.)
UPDATE: Someone on Facebook asked for more details about our meeting on the train. Here’s what I wrote:
Re your questions, for some odd reason (possibly love at first sight, which I don’t even believe in) I did something very uncharacteristic of me when I saw Mark come bopping up the train’s aisle: I smiled and gave him “the eye.” He just looked so handsome and cute, and I liked his eyes and willed him to sit across from me. (It was the end of a long, tiring day — a full day of law school, followed by a trip into Manhattan for a symphony orchestra rehearsal. And I was feeling both exhausted and hyper.)
Anyway, Mark smiled back and then, much to my chagrin, he kept on bopping past me and past lots of empty seats and went into the next train car.
I figured I’d never see him again and then, suddenly, Mark returned to my car, walked past the empty seats again, and sat across from me. His first words to me were: “Boy, you look tired!” Which provoked a monologue by me about everything I’d done that day, followed by a monologue by him detailing his rather full day.
Seven weeks later, we were engaged.
