Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Poem of the Day: Summer 1957

Summer, 1957

She was summer, all summer,
In plaid skirt and cat’s-eye glasses,
She had a smile as bright as the sun
And eyes the color of a cloudless sky.

Her hair dark, black like the smooth
Shadows of that first weekend in July,
Ink-black, shattered by the fireworks
Of her laughter and she could spin,
Boy, could she spin,

Around and around to the music
That came blaring from the radio
Propped on the shelf
Just above the sink
In her mother’s kitchen;

Window open, music pouring
Out of the house into the yard,

Where she danced, and I danced, and
We danced,
Darting in between the pillowcases and
Sheets dancing on the clothesline.

She whisperlaughed, “You and me, we
Are dancing between the sheets!”

She stole a kiss from my innocent lips.
And then she danced away,
As the warmth of her sunlight

Poured from every pore of my skin.


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