We were 7 and 8.
Old enough to be out after dark but not old enough to leave the yard.
You were the first boy to look at me like a girl instead of the neighborhood tomboy that I was.
You didn’t mind when I could hit the baseball further than you and I didn’t mind when you tried kissing me with those sloppy wet kisses that only a dirt streaked little boy can give.
I’d never been touched in the way you showed me how to touch that day behind the bushes at my grandma's.
Looking back now, I wonder when you were taught and by who’s hand.
We were 17 and 18.
Thinking we had all the answers but not even damn sure what the questions were.
One night on your buddy’s couch, you taught me how to dissolve my pain with your touch…the pain of watching a teenage boyfriend make a play for the party girl. A harsh reality and a life lesson all in the same night.
We were 22 and 23.
You married her because she was pregnant.
At the reception, she miscarried during the father/daughter dance.
It played out like an old time black and white movie when her champagne glass hit the floor
Slow motions gasps and a silence so loud it was deafening.
The irony was lost on no one... especially me.
We are 37 and 38.
You live a cookie cutter life with three beautiful children and a vacation every year.
I still see the neighborhood tomboy when the face looks back at me from the mirror.
I saw you at the fair this fall through the noise of the carnival and the smells that only hot summer evenings can know.
I’m old enough to know what the questions are finally.
I’ll be damned if I know the answers though.
A contest entry
- Write it to make me cry... by Blind Sight.
500 points, ended February 14, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - I Remember When by Snowing Kisses.
910 points, ended February 17, 60 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 13 of 13
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"I’m old enough to know what the questions are finally.
I’ll be damned if I know the answers though."
could have pulled these words straight from my heart....
Great job of expressing.
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Wow. The first and second sections brought back memories. The third reminded me of Chuck Palahniuk ( a high compliment from me). The fourth reminds me of... now.
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I'm still stuck in the fourth too...
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This real, soulful, personal and beautiful introspective, confessional poetry. The best.
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this is a really strong poem thanks so much for the entry
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Wow, this is a really good poem. I especially like the fact that in the beginning you know the answers and not the questions, but in the end you know the questions but not the answers. Thanks for entering.
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"You didn’t mind when I could hit the baseball further than you and I didn’t mind when you tried kissing me with those sloppy wet kisses that only a dirt streaked little boy can give." oh that is priceless!
"We were 22 and 23.
You married her because she was pregnant." quit telling people my story LOL. no really, i can relate to this big time!
this is a wonderful piece of prose here (it is prose right?) you kept me wrapped up in this story so tight and deep and i didnt want it to let me go. wonderful job!
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I love this journey, the feelings you evoke of wonder and growth, of joy and pain and always the knowledge and understanding of friendship. You imbibe the piece with smells and feelings that really enhance the whole piece. I enjoyed reading this.
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Ahh... clever eye for typos..and to think I correct my son's contractions... lol..for shame..
Stacy -
Agree with your other commentators, this is powerful. Is there a typo "who's" (contraction for who is) for "whose" in the last line of the first stanza?
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Superb!
I really enjoyed the slow progress of the story, the imagery within each passing line brought the reader in me to the moment, like a snapshot of mini photos that captivates me more and more as I read along, well done, start to finish. Peace.
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Yes, a powerful intrinsic write that carried me back to afternoons of wonder...and nights of anguish.
I adored this poet.
MJ.
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I love writing like this. You had my attention from the beginning, and my understanding by the end. Wonderful, poignant work. Love, Lane
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