This is the poem from that era that I like the best; the first one that I
really worked on for a long time, and the one on which I learned to edit
my own poetry. Sometime I'll scan in the photo that inspired it. This is
also an ode of sorts to the first person I ever fell in love with.
Even in a photo, you're never still.
Long legs splayed, grin wide, leaning close
ready to laugh, confide, leap up,
and be off again, spinning, windmill-like.
I remember the shock of first meeting:
my rush of relief at not being
attracted to you; then, leaving
and sharp bites of longing infecting me.
I remember your smile, like a searchlight
as we shouted over the noise
in the restaurant, and charged through
museum displays, raced down unplowed streets.
We talked for hours, could hardly still our tongues
to sleep, side by side in bed and
miles apart, your pet dog, Sushi,
scampering through the chasm between us.
Afterwards, I sat in a cafe, drank
orange juice, and rode the metro
out to Wheaton, far as it goes,
wishing it reached far enough to touch you....