Could this be the place I remember so vividly?
I was returning from visiting a close friend, a
priest who was not there to see me at the rectory
of his rural parish when I arrived around eight
that evening. (I had met him during basic training)
An attractive woman around forty, a little younger
than he, answered the door and told me that he
was occupied and not available.
I naturally understood why and left it at that.
Maybe I should have called in advance but he
always urged me to drop in anytime if I were in
the area. He was in the area but I soon was not.
Less than two hours later, still trying to force the
implications out of my mind, I passed the dance,
not a square dance but a country-style hoedown
where people, couples, were having fun.
Somehow I felt I had been betrayed and had to
admit I was lonely for the company of friendly
folk such as these.
I made a u-turn across the two-lane asphalt and
headed back. A bright red Thunderbird was
speeding away as I parked with the rest of the
cars, pickup trucks and two-toned station wagons.
As it turned out, it was your dance partner.
I have never asked what he stormed away for
and never will. All that mattered then was that
that barnyard was where I met you in red-checked
shirt on soft shoulders and blue jeans that hugged
every curve the rest of the way.
It is all that matters now.