Turn Around

Posted: April 13, 2011 in My Poetry
Tags: , , , , , ,

Face my past.
It looks back at me,
eyes wide with innocence.

Was it ever really that way?

Shuffling down the sidewalk
in groovy bell-bottoms;
sneaker laces untied,
hair in lopsided pigtails,
carrying cardboard 6 packs
of empty Coke bottles
to exchange for coins.

I grew up
downtown, a big city kid
in the days of the flower child.
Hippies on street corners,
selling flowers, selling peace,
probably selling more.
If so, I didn’t know it.
I was too young to care.

The long-haired teen at 7-11
always gave my big sister a flower.
She of the flowing, blonde hair,
flirtatious gaze:
unfazed adolescent.

I was just a kid then,
all I wanted was a Slurpee.
Red ones were my favorite,
but sometimes,
I’d pretend to be brave,
like my best friend;
mix all the flavors together.

Drink them before they melted.
Shrieking at the headache
we’d get from eating ice.

Lugging 6 packs of bottled Coke
back home for my best friend’s mom.
Our payment was our Slurpees.
We thanked God she was addicted.


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