Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Hands I've Held (II)


The last day of school
we sat on the flowered lawn
and listened to Nirvana covers,
the band hot in their torn flannel but
too cool to take it off.
I spun a buttercup
between my spring-pale fingers,
gold petals pulsing with the beat.

I was drunk with the heat
and the music and the flashing flower and
the last day of school so
I confessed to you
just a boy
who sat next to me sometimes
who sat next to me now
“I’m sixteen years old,” I said
“and I’ve never held a boy’s hand.”

You took the flashing flower
twined your fingers through mine
said “Now you have.”
It was a kindness, like helping
an old lady cross the street,
but of course I fell in love with you
for a little while
until I gave my hand and so much more
too much, much too soon
to someone with hands bigger and weaker
and less kind than yours.

15 comments:

  1. How sweet and sad, both at the same time. Lovely poem...

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  2. Have to hand it to you, very nice piece. Hands can come in handy right?..haha

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  3. this was so beautiful...the tenderness...then the sadness in an all too human decision...

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  4. I love the bittersweet turn from innocence to regret. I can feel the sun on my face and the grass under my feet on this summer afternoon.

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  5. Yes, bittersweet is the perfect description for this. I really enjoyed the picture you painted and the regret you made us feel. Wonderful poem.

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  6. Beautifully told story with precision and vivid imagery.

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  7. Touching. So sorry it turned from gentle touch to so much regret. Hope you have found good hands to hold again!

    Charles Elliott

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  8. I really like this. You tell a cogent story with vivid details. The last stanza is awesome.

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  9. This is so sad and sweet and also touching at the same time. Thank you for sharing

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  10. What a lovely poem! And what a nostalgic memory - as Ann says, sweet, sad and touching. Beautifully expressed, striking just the right note.

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  11. That last paragraph made me cry. Those words about the hands bigger and weaker really got to me. Does that make me a sap? Or just an appreciator of poetry.

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  12. aw, so much regret in that last part. but a beautifully told story that touched my heart. love this line: between my spring-pale fingers

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  13. Love your prose! (love nirvana too) ... This is a great blog, my kinda stuff! Will be back!

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  14. perfect word flow.
    Glad to meet.


    invite you to join our poetry picnic today,

    1 to 3 random poems are welcome for first time participants, you can also write for our theme,

    best.

    hope to see your participation.

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