XLVI: Many Miles Missed

I sat by you at seven every morn,

the far right of the tenor section, we.

There’s something I could not have guessed that’s shorn

by seeing those songs end for you and me.

Those mornings where you gossiped in my ear,

and told me that I’d better not get mixed.

You sang so that the teacher couldn’t hear

you o’er the other tenors interfixed.

And on the winter morn…