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We were accustomed to being in the military living in the
barracks, having inspections and following the rules.
Yet, at summer's zenith, my sweetheart and I and our two
friends left behind the Ft. Myer base in Arlington, Virginia,
to spend a Saturday night at Lady Bird Johnson Park. We
had such exhilarated feelings being in our early twenties.
Fireflies lit the pathways, the freedom of that festive nightfall.
Our youthfulness and our revelry shined in that humid
July gloaming.
We drank to the joys of Navy life with Jack Daniel's whiskey
and Boone's Farm strawberry wine. We soon became
inebriated, quoting Poe and Hemingway. What a starry
jubilant soiree, a mirthful moon-blessed eve. All four of us
vowed to keep in touch, then we fell asleep on the banks
of the Potomac.
My love and I strengthened our union, our "Navy Baby" was
born on a late November morning. Our friends we spent so
many joyous times with were gone with yesterday. Years
have passed. My love and I had a cherish of each other,
but there were troubled times too. The decades since that
carefree and heady midsummer night passed too swiftly.
My husband is neath white marble in the Veterans Cemetery.
He passed suddenly and unexpectantly at the age of
fifty-nine. He lived long enough to enjoy our two precious
grandchildren for a few years. He loved them, our daughter
and son-in-law so very much. 
I reminisce, I gently dream some mournful nights when
the moon is bright and nigh-
we fell asleep on the banks of the Potomac.

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