"First Impressions"

Marabola: Poetry
Comments:
May 2007
This one I think is pretty self-explanatory.


The sun was gold and molten
upon your curly hair.
You’re in front of me; we’re heading east
in the dewy morning air.

Such was my first impression
in a distant gold September –
of you – I’d never seen the like,
and so I do remember.

It was raining in the schoolyard –
you read across from me,
a book as black and thick as tar –
we exchanged names beside the acorn tree.

Such was my first impression
in a distant grey September –
of you – I’d never known the like,
and so I do remember.

A classroom full of strangers,
as frightening as fear –
I met your eyes – you clung, like me
to your parents, safely near.

Such was my first impression
in a distant blue September –
of you – I’d never met the like,
and so I do remember.

Friendship spawns in autumn:
in the schoolyard, on the bus –
shared interests and memories,
vibrant colors, noise, and rust.

Such were my first impressions
in colorful Septembers –
and you were like me – so we stay,
and so I do remember.



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