The Other Woman

When he read the news of her death, I knew his wouldn't be far behind.
I watched him turning backward to the passion in his mind,
To words forever left unsaid and a promise still unspoken,
And I firmly told myself my own heart was unbroken.
Had her dark eyes looked ever inward with the same regretful discontent
To their love of long ago, only dreamed of, never spent?
To chaste kisses in the moonlight, a championship season,
A still unvanquished captain and a breakup for no reason?

When he read the news of her wedding over a thousand miles away,
I saw his bitter pain, and he turned to me that day.
On a far-off winter's night when I was young and not particularly proud,
My silly mooncalf love had me kissing doorways and walking on a cloud.
Fulfilled by house and children, untouched by passion's scorch,
I didn't understand words like rebound or carrying a torch.
But I watched his eyes remember hers, never seeing what was real,
Yearning for his Faerie Queen and the love they'd never sealed.
With his heart locked away where I could never follow,
He danced there with his dark-eyed wraith and all his words to me were hollow.

When he read the news of her death, I saw his bitter pain.
On a beautiful autumn day, he followed her again.
With a smile on his lips and speaking of something other than me,
He left no memories of that summer nor of a love that would never be.
When I finally had my turn and was touched by passion's scorch,
I understood the meaning of carrying a torch,
And that in the mists of long ago, unremembered and unseen,
He's still her unvanquished captain and she's his Faerie Queen.

Kate Saundby
In Memoriam
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