Regarding Anecdotes

I am sure I never
placed a jar upon a hill
in Tennessee, but I walked
up a hill to a party one night
in Tennessee, if that counts,
and as the party wound down
(or the party goers fell down),
I found my way to a garden,
deeply scented with rosemary
and lavender, and I lay down
upon an old lawn
chair thinking I was alone
with the garden and the night
only to find this very young
man, who was full of booze
and small talk, who had come
from the alleys and attitudes,
who was dark-haired and quite beautiful,
hovering above me, making somewhat
laughable passes at me, there in the chair,
in Tennessee. And so I rose
from the chair, his hands
a strange comfort beneath the smooth
white pits of my underarms,
and at the height of a moment,
I slipped and he fell,
and the chair remained.
And I don't think the garden
had any regard for either of us.

(My thanks to Wallace Stevens)