bravely done

With all the grace of a bird
serving drinks, she swanned
into me beaming back
not forth at full speed, luckily
I recovered enough of her poise
for both of us. I cushioned her
fall like an autumn leaf, she
was featherweight anyway, or
seemed so to me despite my
knocked-out breath, and we surveyed
the wreck of her dress and my
shirt, slacks, jacket - but miraculously,
not tie! It was gone! Oh yes
I'd taken it off before coming
in. Second thoughts are better thoughts. It
was in the car, spared the contents
of all this surprisingly unbroken glass
still rolling and settling around us
in the grass.

I sized up the situation instantly. Beaming
back at the model-sharp bartender, five drinks
meticulously held suspended arranged
being carried for friends
plus a sixth for herself,
all for us.

Aghast,
I soothed her
"I hate these things!" she exasperated
"But I can't wear this dress, otherwise,"
her voice crumpled. "And it's ruined."
"Me too!" I agreed. And disengaging

from what really was a quite avant garde
embrace, we arose disentangling in
innumerable smooth motions. And sorted each
other out, and sized

each other up, and

The locked eyes of appraisal changed
in a charged moment of unlocking
and a swift, decisive and choreographed
nod, and we slipped the gate

and ran.
to the car,

and I put my tie back on.