-when she’s rich-

the girl who sat at her desk

two desks in front of his own
and one row to his right,

the one 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,

but who could have known

how to do such a thing?

do you know what heartache is?

do you think you know?

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 when 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

at the face of her house

its wrought-iron gate

her friends walking through

no more than strangers a short time ago

embraced with laughter and hugs

in a dress he'd not seen—

her dress white as chalk

at 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 / c.1953