Listen to poem:
Rite of Passage and Popcorn
Can a man be be both blessed and cursed,
by long memories of combs and curls..
and is there any true penance to be done
believing anything could be worse?
The girl of aubern riding fast past my porch
always laughing into the dusk-
still, smile
in spite of myself,
remembering it just as it was.
Popcorn smell wafting down the cinema hall,
and what's more, thank the lord!
invited to sit with two college sorority girls
replete with rice and loaded squirt guns
at the late night Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Holding hands with the girl nextdoor,
Miss Dear to Heart and friend.
Return to that wonderous world of before-
ah, to be sixteen at Six Flags
again!
Just wish I could remember the names,
that belong to all those laughing faces...
in fine pigtails and shining braces,
held now, and forever
in a heart's Hall of Fame.
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