A Package (Part I) by Maureen Glaude
In the drawer beneath his bed
Josh found the cardboard box
and removed from it the pine cone
hed placed there, last August
he brought it to the dining room
and tucked it into mauve tissue
on their day together
at Lake Mazinaw, Ontario
shed told him how
the grey-pink on the rockface
across the Narrows from them
transformed to hues of mauve
at sunset
now he turned the large cone in his hand
checking for a trace of the old scent;
hed seized it from the ground that day
made it his steady focus
avoiding this new girl's -
Annas, eyes.
the awkwardness of puberty,
his acne and frog-throatedness
trapping him that morning
as it had all summer
he'd been glad to be alone
with just the loons, jays and
chipmunks, by the edge of the shoreline
overlooking the vast rock
until her laughter disturbed
the lapping waters
Josh had stumbled over a small rock
then hid in a stand of pines
looking at the girl by the water
only when her back was turned
Like a phoenix
or sea nymph, shed emerged
into existence
exquisite (to his chagrin)
running her fingers
through the water as she left the lake
the hem of her gauzy cover-up
touching her summer-browned knees
he'd wanted a camouflage skin for himself
like the chipmunks scampering past
with a smile she came, straight toward him,
steady silk across the sand
Diana the huntress?
He hoped not to have to say hello
in that strange new voice of his
Girls affected him this way now
making him remote and terrified
she'd sat on the bench near him
and stared, so he'd turned away
kicking earth, stirring up sand
then rising, to collect pine cones
after she'd initiated a conversation
hed stumble-talked much like hed walked
but theyd covered names, hometowns,
arrival days and campsite numbers
Hed clutched pine cones
studying them as if suddenly
some kind of naturalist or arborist
even mumbled to them
She hadnt laughed
The sun warmed them into the afternoon
still together
Hed found her effect was
that of a second sun. Shed accepted
his afflictions, as if they were as natural
as the gradations
of color at various times of day
on the rock face across from them
Anna Mills slipped her hand into Josh Peters,
that August day, and walked him down the shoreline
where they began to negotiate
their way around the
irregularities and the unknowns
all the while, in his free hand, he'd still kept
a pine cone
Anna'd mentioned it was cute
I wish it werent my last day here.
Walk me back to my campsite
so I can give you my home address?
This first-ever girl to seem to admire him,
must leave, at the debut of their discovery?
She'd be in another province soon.
On the long trek through the woodland
he'd hoped the bark on the pine trees
was weeping for them.
You wont remember me, he said
on tiptoe she reached
to brush his cheek with a kiss
Only in every one these,she laughed
taking the cone from his hand
then tucking into his knap-sack
At December his mothers traditional
Christmas centerpiece of red candles
set in a pine-cone base
reminded Josh what hed wanted
to send to Anna, even though theyd never
kept in touch
He copied out the address
from her little piece of foolscap
knowing that the brown, bumpy souvenir
in mauve tissue would be soon be on its way
He wondered if it might
still speak to her of him?
12/11/2003 Author's Note: a draft.
Posted on 12/11/2003 Copyright © 2024 Maureen Glaude
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Agnes Eva on 12/11/03 at 07:40 PM really swept me away into the sweetness that is adolescent crushes. such a pretty setting in nature too, and very romantic of the boy to hold on to that pinecone. (re: draft- all it needs is some really poignant ending lines, something that makes a statement tying it all together, bringing out the theme...). makes me want to go to summer camp back in time to have this as a memory :) |
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/12/03 at 12:57 PM Captivating story written by a master story teller. Brought back both painful and pleasurable memories of my own coming of age. |
Posted by Kate Demeree on 12/12/03 at 02:20 PM WOW... I got chills reading this, it is very good Mo and I didn't want it to stop at all but to read and know more of their emerging story! |
Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 12/14/03 at 03:04 AM A sentimental story of the stirrings of first "love". A touch of poignancy, yet very realistic in summer friendships at the beach or camp or wherever. You certainly reflect the sense of early youth. |
Posted by Glenn Currier on 12/15/03 at 04:36 PM I'm with Kate. I couldn't stop reading, the words flowed like a spring slipping down over rounded rocks making their way to the lake. My first thought was: "What a cool woman to be able to put herself in the place of these boy-to-man moments!" Extraordinary story/teller. |
Posted by Ulyss Rubey on 07/05/04 at 01:49 PM How do you know this much about a young man's struggle with those first wonderful meetings. I still a rock from one of them fifty years ago. Great write! |
Posted by Vimal Rony on 07/31/04 at 10:40 PM Lovely, lovely write.It is hard to mention how gripping it is not only with the images u have created here but through the captivating lines too. |
Posted by Amanda L Marron on 11/10/05 at 07:10 PM This is beautiful. I wish to see where both parts continue to go. |
|