Who He Was

He was the debonair sailor
you met that summer eons ago
when you visited Aunt Rhoda
near Boston harbor.

He was on his last leave
before a two-year
tour of duty overseas.

The three days you spent together
were idyllic. Everything
and everyone duly faded
into the background.

You had a very difficult time
when he had to leave, but
you promised to write, so did he.
He would come home to you.

You moved; he got reassigned.
The mail was delayed. You lost touch
with each other and never found
him again. But you never forgot.

Neither did he.