How He Met my Mother
It was their duty to country that brought them together
across a crowded room. He a Captain.
She a sergeant. Rules forbid fraternization
yet he pursued and pursued.
She was the one. Brunette, with a WAC poster-girl smile.
They rode trains, met in the middle on weekends.
A kiss pressed to fingers against the window
Their passion gushed as brakes to steam, to the rushed whistle of leaving.
Married just before the war ended, their journey lasted 60 years
and I, the baby boomer, am carried on their train of eternity
a kiss pressed to the window.