Prophecy on an Autumn Night
‘He won’t always be the most significant event in your love life.’
Words spoken to me on a grim autumn night long ago,
When everything had gone awry,
By a friend who would go on to be so much more,
Did I suspect even then that he would be the one
To supplant that very title?
I don’t believe so, but perhaps I should have,
Strange, how these things work out,
He held that title a long time,
So long I feared he would never relinquish it,
But he did,
In the end,
When I think back to that conversation,
The me in my memory smiles,
‘No,’ she says as she looks him up and down,
‘And nor will you.’
