Memories

Laughter doesn't remind me of
Anything,
Not of Peter Sellers' "party,"
Nor the mad mad mad mad
Pilgrimage to "W."
Laughter doesn't remind me of
The day I fell into the pond outside
Sedgewick Library--
You laughed so hard
You pulled a muscle in your neck.
You had to look straight ahead
For a week.

I should have looked straight ahead.
I wouldn't have tripped over the
Stone ledge.

Laughter doesn't remind me of
Your soft hand in mine,
And it doesn't remind me of
The deep color of your lips
Either.


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