In the overheated, overcast of August 4^th,

2005, I found myself quite by accident in

the shop where you found for me the first

gift you would give. A necklace – garnet,

glowing and so rich, “To match your hair,”

you said and presented it to me as we sat

in the tumble of white sheets that betrayed

the afternoon’s evidence and outside

the school-children sang in their recess

and the hush of the city bled in through

the windows as you lifted my long hair

and gently pushed the hook through the clasp

at 4:37 p.m on the upper west side

New York City , October 4^th, 1994 .