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A Girl Of Thirteen Summers
by Jared OrlandoSitting in a chair next to a vacant street
Strapped, eyes forced open by
Coat hangers (my coats line the yard)
Hands that resemble an older man’s
Bound and lifeless, bloodless
Beads upon my brow drip past my eyes
For seconds I’m blind, and then
The vacant road again; I can feel
The breathing of those once here
I can almost make out the halos
Of dusty cars in their dusty parking spaces
But it begins to rain, and the rope
Gets lame but I cannot move (refuse to)
-I’ve waited.
I’ve waited all year for the summer,
For the rains to stop, for a ship to come
“I’d love a southern boy”,
I’d love a southern girl.
And until then-
Until her sun-for-eyes melt my unwillingness,
For horses running towards a glistening stream
For flower children skipping around crackling bonfires
I’d catch her in our moment, right when
The last raindrops falls, hits her nose just right
And I’d pick up my world in one unbound hand,
Realizing:
There’s no mistaking that a girl holds a season
Between her teeth, and once she speaks,
She'll release a fire,
That'll keep me wanting, needing more.
09/18/2010 Posted on 09/18/2010
Copyright © 2024 Jared Orlando
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Richard Vince on 09/19/10 at 04:25 PM very evocative. so much superb imagery i don't know what to mention specifically. :) |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 09/25/10 at 11:11 PM The strapped to a chair image is brilliant, love the line about feeling the "breathing of those once here", the halo of the dusty cars, the whole raindrops scene, and the last four lines. Thank you. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 07/06/11 at 01:47 PM I love this poem and it is not necessary to know why. Only that I do and that suffices. |
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