What was is ... since 1930; <br />the boys in my old gang <br />are senior partners. They start up <br />bald like baby birds <br />to embrace retirement. <br /> <br />At the altar of surrender, <br />I met you <br />in the hour of credulity. <br />How your misfortune came out clearly <br />to us at twenty. <br /> <br />At the gingerbread casino, <br />how innocent the nights we made it <br />on our Vesuvio martinis <br />with no vermouth but vodka <br />to sweeten the dry gin-- <br /> <br />the lash across my face <br />that night we adored . . . <br />soon every night and all, <br />when your sweet, amorous <br />repetition changed.<br /><br />Robert Lowell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/homecoming/
