David + Jacqueline

We steal across the garden
in the middle of the night
We carve our names into the oak
with help from sweet moonlight
We jump at sudden noises
praying we’re not seen
but it’s only squirrels who witness
our clandestine scene

We weave our way along the paths
confessing all our fears
The stars stare down upon us
as he wipes away my tears
“Summer isn’t all that long”
he promises with a smile
My heart longs to believe him
and I did—for a while

Thirty years have passed since then
I’ve finally made it home
I brush my hand against the tree
And suddenly feel alone
I wonder what he’s doing now
I wonder where he is
I wonder if he knows
my name’s still right here, next to his

I wander back to my hotel
and sadly sip my wine
until I’m feeling drunk enough
to look him up online
I come to find, who would’ve thought,
he’s in town, same as me
Then suddenly, I’m messaging:
“Meet me at our tree”

The darkness nearly swallows me
My stomach’s in a knot
But still somehow I find it
that immortal, timeless spot
And there he waits, pacing
but stops when he sees me
I sigh and say “Hi, David”
He breathes “Hello, Jackie”

The steadfast stars watch from above
blessing our tree, our time, our love

“David + Jacqueline.” Found on a tree outside James Blair Hall at William & Mary.