>This morning an image of a long-time friend popped into my mind and I wrote the following poem.


I remember your arm on the slanted school desk lid
and your finger on the side of your face
as your nervous smile tried to hide your teeth
when the teacher introduced the new girl.
You tugged down the skirt
over your crossed legs.

I remember the harsh shadows on your face
as you leaned against your locker
in the fluorescent-lit high school hall
and put that finger on your cheek
while smiling that fleeting smile.

And I remember you in a lawn chair
and a borrowed Dutch costume
and an adopted southern accent,
while the smile stayed on your lined face
and your fingers flew in the air.

© Glenda Mathes
17 September 2008


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