My soulmate/boyfriend/future husband
and father of my future children
worked on me with words
until I willingly released the
traditions of high school to embrace
the rebellion of making different choices.
Despite the Gunny-sax hippy dress that
was the uniform of proms in those days,
that I had shopped with mom and best friend
for hours in the city for;
he knew that mountains, and outdoor living
would call to my heart more clearly
than girl’s fashion, peer pressure boundaries,
that were actually tighter than the
fearful adults’ lines of
awareness,
And so
Me
My birth control pills
My boyfriend
Our friend since 3rd grade. Griffis
(who would die at age 40, leaving us in shock)
And our dog
went, instead of to the dance, to Griffis’s family cabin
in the High Sierra.
The boys brought fishing poles and tackle
I brought 3 books,
And soon found myself reading,
on a “Day-On-The-Green” blanket,
with the dog bringing me a stick
every few minutes,
on the shore,
banished from the boat with the boys,
because though I can scale and gut and fry- up
and savor
a dead fish,
If I see the struggle to survive in my own eyes
I will plead for the preciousness
of that flashing silver magnificence.
begging for the mercy for the fellow hood of life.
Plus, the dog revealed he was not sea-worthy.
That evening in front of a warm and snapping fire
that lit the whole great room
a delicious yellow-flickering-orange
with stomachs full of fresh fried
hand- caught boy- captured
sun- dappled, graduation -days,
very special trout
we drank tequila, smoked pot
and pretended to play card games
while we laughed and got teary
and told stories, and sang
and were silent in that sweet swept away but
very very present way,
these 2 boys who I had loved since 8 years old.
These 2 boys who I will love until my dying day.
Later, retiring to a 4 poster bed
my love and I explored in a very slow
somewhat drunk
full -of -love space,
the wonders
of this human body’s capacity for pleasure.
It is one of those memories that come back
full sensory, with no inclination
to change or twist or enhance,
with a visceral flow of gratitude
from my forehead to my feet.
Best. Prom. Ever.
January Handl
Blew me away! Thanks for sharing this, January.
thanks, John!
Beautiful poem. It blew me away too.
Thanks, Suzy!
WOW! Such a gorgeous way to describe your alternative-to-prom night. Sensual and visceral and totally engaging. Just beautiful. A real gift.
Thank you so much, Betsy!
I would be willing to stay on this sight to read your work, even if I didn’t write another thing. Love the strength, the integrity and the clash of innocence and loss of innocence that happens at just that age for so many of us. Lovely touching memory.
What kind words…they made me feel so seen…thank you!
Exquisite. Thank you for this lovely gift.
Thanks, Susan!
An alternative prom! Wonderful story. If we’re lucky, we make our own families. A gift of your story. Loved this. So beautifully expressed but clearly narrated, enthusiastic word play and so evocative. Thanks!
Thank you for the kind words, Charles!