How this threesome
at that table came about
I can’t recall:
Paul, Anne, and I were
out somewhere in Austin,
a live jazz spot in 1975

When Paul left for the restroom
Anne seized upon the chance:
“This music makes me want a kiss!”
Her French accent increased the charm
of this surprise announcement
She was married
but husband wasn’t with us
What could I do but kiss her?
Nothing between us before,
but later that night
we were in bed together

Now in 2022
I’m reading Homo Ludens
as an ebook on my phone.
I’ve been meaning to read it
for decades, have reshelved
it after numerous moves.
Thinking Hilary might
like to read it now,
I go to find it where
I think it ought to be.
But I don’t see it, start
to scan along the rows
of volumes, some in French

That somehow makes me
think of Anne and her inscription
in the book she gave me
long ago; I open French
books on my shelves
in search for one with
writing on a flyleaf
Without the memory of the title
I have no luck till pulling out
Le parti pris des choses
Voilà!

The inscription
with quotation
from the book
and referenced page
contains the strange word
ludion: new to me
as far as I remember—
turns out to be the thing
we call Cartesian diver
(or devil), a scientific toy
which bobs in liquid
up or down
at a player’s whim
by ironclad
laws of nature

Merci bien, Anne Marie!
Are you alive
there cross the ocean?
Neither of us will ever
know that of the other