a nervous laughter arose from the crowd

“So true, so true.”

What was once the sweet music of your voice, so gentle and loving

Like string quartets and cooing doves and the trickle of a stream

Has turned into a siren scream, or nails on a chalkboard or an LP needle dragged scratching across the surface of the vinyl

Oh lovely grape in such a vintage, to vinegar you have gone

From the freshest baked bread, to a stone cold, rock hard loaf

The milk sour, and a loving glance to a killer’s glower

The crowd now shifts restlessly in their seats, the couples only look at each other from the periphery of their eye sight, not daring to see the cold, dark stare they fear is there

But, wait a minute!

Not knowing from where or when, sometimes a spark, so small as a sandwich or a rose brings us back to the good graces—-and we remember, falling in love all over again

The crowd shifts, looking at their partners, “So true, so true.”