Poetry First Place: Marie’s Dance
City Paper’s 13th Annual Poetry Contest
Published: December 19, 2012
I’ve danced around that backyard
so many times, the scratching bristles of sun bleached Kentucky blue
poking between my chipped toes
of traditional pink (this is before I discovered unflattering shades that I embrace like saturated fats, like one more episode of Burn Notice before bed at 1 A.M. on a workday, like that gorgeous man so toxic for me . . . the one with the shouty laugh),
the wind whistling slightly into my ears, the unshellacked hair bouncing back
against the smell of Michigan.
I miss you.
I miss you when my eyes flit to the elderly man on Fleet Street rolling in a suit on a bike and I smile and no one else really sees the beauty,
when murland and mooovie slowly slip from my lips casually, the soft drawl creeping in on the harsh “a’s” I so often flaunt,
and when on the west side I know you would be terrified as I walk calmly past the aggressive men, the hostile stares trailing, the smoky summer evening cloaking my car begging to not be shattered to diamonds, Baltimore diamonds.
this is who I am now, and you
are laughing against the backdrop of the pool that has anchored this cornfield since 1982, and you are different, the hands that have touched you have changed and you tap through the years becoming someone different, someone better, someone lovely with webs tangled into other hearts.
The years blur, the time together continuously outpaced by the time apart and
our purple hair grew out long ago. I should really lose the nose ring, eh?
But you’re always mine, I’m always yours
said Anne of Green Gables.
Or maybe, that was just us somewhere along the way
when we became who we were meant to
Fiction and Poetry Contest Winners
> Email Angie Cochrun