How It All Started Poem by Grant House

How it all got started

He shares a passing thought
With the woman on his left
At the wedding reception open bar.
Kind of like a poem
Or some sort of incomplete haiku,
He says,
My bed
In which I sleep alone
Is always made up
For two.
She searches for a catty answer. Considers:
Then you must be very happy to see me.
or
I have the same problem.
or
Poor poor boy. That is so sad.
or
I wonder why that is?
or
Why did you get such a big bed? And what's with all those pillows?
or
¡Que lastima! ¿Se salió su hermana? (What a pity. Your sister left you?)
To fill the empty space he starts, I'm so...
She interrupts,
I'm so happy to see you. I have the same problem. Poor poor boy. That is so sad.
And to herself, I wonder why that is? Why did you get such a big bed? What's with all those pillows?
Not sure where he stands, he wonders half outloud, So...?
She puts down her drink hard,
Leans in close, looks him in the eye and says,
Your place then?

That was a long time ago.
Now on their 50th anniversary
Not quite a year after she lost him
This time for good
It occurs to her that it's the right time
To tell the family their true origin story.

A tear forms.
She begins,
This is how it all got started...