It’s Poetry Friday! I’m trying to get in the habit of posting more poetry. This week I decided to let one poem do double duty. Gotta ease back into things slowly. Tricia offered up a great and I finally got around to writing mine about an hour ago. It’s a first draft but I’m going to go ahead and post it anyway. The stretch prompt was to write about “a first something” and my mind, like many others, went to my first kiss.
Not my first kiss
not my first boyfriend
but a first kiss from
who knew me better than anyone
who happened to be a boy
who rode his bike
miles and miles
to my grandmother’s house
to stand like a shy soldier
on the yellow front porch,
the dirty screen door the only thing
that separated us,
until he finally asked me
to come outside.
I let the screen door slam behind me
but for once
Nana didn’t yell
or issue warnings
of what we should or shouldn’t do
(that would come later.)
He didn’t speak
so I tucked my words beneath my tongue
and followed him
while he leaned against Nana’s blue Oldsmobile
until the door handle jabbed him in the back
and he didn’t move,
he just watched me,
red like strawberries,
and I wanted to touch it
to feel its heat
to connect the dots of freckles on his face
to hear his voice
that voice I talked to on the phone
but the silence continued to simmer
and melted my anticipation
until I felt lost
like we were playing musical chairs
and the music had stopped
and I had nowhere to go.
I moved to the shade of the orange tree
inhaled the citrus perfume
let the sturdy trunk support me
Overhead bees buzzed
dancing from flower to flower flower
again and again.
at long last
about going home
about his paper route
about not being late
headed for his bike
to ride those miles and miles
but before he left
he joined me under the orange tree
and kissed me
for the very first time.
©2010 Susan Taylor Brown
All Rights Reserved
The Poetry Friday roundup can be found at Great Kid Books today.
I love it just the way it is.
I really sweet memory.
Thank you. It’s been a lot of years but still I remember.
You captured the moment perfectly!
Thanks! I replay it every so often. 🙂
Sweet poem, Susan. Thanks for sharing!
Thank you, Donna.
Sweet poem, Susan. Thanks for sharing!
Love it, Susan. Perfect capture!
Oh, that’s lovely!
Thank you. Love the icon to accompany it!
Your writing leaves me breathless and light-headed. Your poem transported me back to my first kiss…way back in kindergarten. Thank-you 🙂
Thank you, Carmen. You made my night. 🙂
Fabulous poem! Thanks so much for sharing it!
forgot to say who was visiting!
Very sweet. Reminds me of a boy I once knew who also rode his bike miles and miles to see me. Great response to the prompt.
Oh, wow. That is just wonderful!
Thank you, Amy. It was fun to look back.
I could see the whole moment. Wow, such a poerful image of that first experience. Thanks.
Thanks so much.
Is that lovely first kiss memorable? It means so much,especially when we look back from other kisses.
How well you’ve captured that moment.
Wonderfully descriptive poem!
I love the lines “the only thing that separated us” and the one about the end of musical chairs with nowhere to go.
Awwww. This is wonderful. The details keep it from being too sentimental, and yet it’s full of heart and feeling!
Those last 2 lines whoa
I can understand that you didn’t want anything to change in the loving world that you had but there was always that one bit missing.
Would things have been as they were if he was in your world anyway. Things may have been completely different to those which were. My Mother spent her entire day doing everything for my Father when he was around. He was her world and when he was there it felt like we were invisible. Sometimes I used to wish I was or anywhere but there. In the end she used to chase him to the door for a kiss good bye and still could not see anything wrong with that.
I was the only one that could see the true picture here and could not tell her and then even when I did she did not believe me until one day. He left, just up and left, my mother and I as I was the only one still at home and her with a broken arm and all. I will never ever forget that day. I am sure my father has long since forgotten it. That is just how he is. Everything is all about him and probably always will be. Yes I would not want to go into his world either and I am sure I don’t want him back in mine. You sadly don’t even get to make that decision.
– Anne McKenna