Friday poem

or, Whom's On First?

I knew each of them--

he and she--

before they met.

They weren’t married yet.

This was before she

began to go by "them” and “they,”

so the former he and she

are now they and he.

Be that as it may, the two of them

seemed made for each other.

They wed,

with complicated vows:

what’s their's is his,  

and what’s his is their's, now.

They say (that is, people say,

not just the former she,  

although I’m sure they would agree)

that true love doesn't care about pronouns

or how it sounds

or what people say

or who might be gay.

Or whatever.

They seem happy (both of them, not just her)

and we're all happy for them, and for him.

He was one of my

best friends but

I only hear from him

now and then.

I know people grow apart.

Friendships fade,

and people change.

But I miss him more than them--

that is, I miss him more

than I miss the she they used to be,

not that they

miss him more than me.

(And why should they?

He’s not gone away.)

I hear that in solidarity

he's decided to be

"they" as well.

I’d never have guessed,

but I wish them all the best

--them, and them and them.  

Time will tell.

DTM 12/23