As we walked out one night,
my love and I,
I caught a glimpse
of an old bachelor friend
through the window of a restaurant.
He was sitting at the counter,
reading a newspaper over his solitary meal.
He would be going home alone,
getting into bed alone and waking up alone,
rather than returning to a shared bed
with a beautiful woman.
And I felt a sharp pang of envy.
For in his aloneness his life seemed fuller, richer,
and less lonely than mine
in its incomplete state of togetherness.
My love also noticed him and turned to me.
“Isn’t that your friend?” she said,
“poor guy.”
John Tottenham 