-when she knew she was rich-

the girl at her desk
in front of his own,
the girl he knew as a friend
didn’t know she was rich

but she'd know soon enough.

then her smile would be different.
It would move backward.

he'd thought to let it go,
to leave it behind,

but who could have known
how to do such a thing?

when he saw her house
and he saw his house
for the first time in the same
cold-frame in his brain

on the day that he pedaled
fast above the saddle to the Avenue
and stopped from a distance
to look from a distance to figure it out

and all he could see
was the stone of her house
three columns to the doors
at the face of her house
its wrought-iron gate

her friends walking through
no more than strangers
a short time ago
now greeted
with laughter and hugs
in a dress he'd not seen—
a dress white as chalk—
from the front of her house
from the stone of her house

on the day when happiness
fell through the hole
in the midst of his world
when she knew she was rich.



                         up the highlands,
                         quequechan