Whirlwind
It was bright Red,
My blush.
My jacket.
My racing, pacing blood.
It was Halloween night,
Supposedly scary.
Supposedly different.
Supposedly dating was easy.
It was my first date.
Just couldn’t wait.
Just teenage ‘”fate.”
Just Dad driving us, embarrassingly.
It was so fast.
We were unprepared.
We teenagers assumed our calm.
We were fearsome pirates for a night.
It was a dance.
Who remembers the songs?
Who saw our discomfort?
Who knew we were stifling our immaturity?
It was an awkwardly normal door.
Why the sudden silence?
Why the bashful hug?
Why the inwardly sung victory?
Copyright © Beth Watkins | Year Posted 2011
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