A BEACH BACK BENEATH A PIER

THERE ARE THOSE BEACHES

BACK BENEATH THE PIER

OW MANY YEARS HAVE PASSED SINCE WE MET AT THAT OLD PIER BY CHANCE? IT WAS A SUMMER KIND OF ROMANCE, ONE WE KNEW WOULD NOT LAST. YOU WERE FROM SOME LITTLE LAKE TOWN DOWN IN UPSTATE NEW YORK AND YOU ASKED ME WHY I DECIDED TO SPEND TIME IN BAR HARBOR, MAINE. YOU LAUGHED WHEN I TOLD YOU I HAD NEVER HAD LOBSTER WITH A MAINE BAKED POTATO OR WRITTEN A BEST SELLER. YOUR EYES SPARKLED LIKE THE STARS WE SAW AS WE LINGERED AND STAYED ON THAT RICKETY OLD PIER. WHEN THE ATLANTIC'S NIGHT WIND BEGAN BLOWING IT MADE YOU SHIVER. WE EMBRACED AND SPENT THE REST OF THE SUMMER TOGETHER IN THE CABINS WE HAD RENTED IN ADVANCE UNTIL SEPTEMBER TO GET AWAY FROM LIFE LONG ENOUGH TO FALL IN LOVE. IT'S A WONDER WE NEVER WROTE EACH OTHER EVEN ONCE, BUT I THINK WE BOTH KNEW IT WOULD BE BETTER BECAUSE WE SENSED OUR LOVE WAS TOO PERFECT TO LAST ANYWAY. WE WERE SO ROMANTIC, YET SO FATAL AND SO SELFISH TOO. WE WERE TOO YOUNG TO UNDERSTAND THAT PASSION COULD BE DIVIDED. WE WERE UNWISE. ARE YOU STILL THE DEAN OF THAT ALL GIRLS SCHOOL? YOU DIDN'T KNOW I KNEW, OR DID YOU? MAYBE WE WILL MEET AGAIN SOME SUMMER, BUT THE OLD PIER, AS YOU MUST KNOW, FINALLY FELL IN THE WINTER OF EIGHTY-NINE. IT WAS ON THE COVER OF MY LAST BEST SELLER.