Rights; New Ashford; Ode to Youth

RIGHTS  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             
Today, she twirls in circles in her periwinkle dress, 
a ribbon in her hair to celebrate this special day.  
Her teacher will present her with an Honor Roll Award.  
She’s 10 years old and jubilant.

Today a young man pulls the body armor tight around his chest.  
Pats a vest of many pockets. Grips a long sleek gun. Ignores the  
wild verbena waving near the classroom door. Its innocent spring 
blooms will not deter him.

He’s trying to remember the instructions having never held a gun before. 
The salesman said, “For better aim, I recommend you nest the rifle 
on your shoulder. Place your fingers so. The barrel is the tube that the bullet 
travels through once the round is fired.” He does as he was told.
  
Gunfire cleaves the peaceful morning. Air once filled with promise
crumbles, cracks, snaps, splinters tiny bones, dissolves futures. 
leaves a child to whisper “please” crouched beneath a table cradling 
her award reaching for a friend who isn’t breathing any more. 

Nothing had gotten in his way
New Ashford

On my way someplace else      
I drive through New Ashford 
Meagerness scribbled in the margins of the Berkshires      
Pick-ups sprawled on yellowed yards 
It’s June but roadside signs ‘Think Snow’ 
Who lives here anyway?

Then I think of you those years ago                                                 
 No name comes to mind just the way                  
 you strode across the pages of that class 
 Pre- Raphaelite beauty in L. L. Bean                                                                                                                
 talking Gerard Manley Hopkins
 I so wanted to be you                                                                                                                                                  

 Now I wonder do you live here still
 Perhaps a poet, academic?
 Dwelling in the freshness of these aspens      
 A spirit-soaring muse who crowns each day                                                         
 with thought, wisdom, with your gifts                   
 The way you always were, even then, complete    
Ode to Youth
  
I cannot fathom why you left 
I was so fond of skin unblemished, belly flat, thick and lustrous hair
It’s true, I do prefer pajamas to the filmy secrets of Victoria 
but we might have talked about it  
Instead, without a note you stole away one night and left me 
dreaming pointlessly of Colin Firth 

I hope you’ll visit me again
Perhaps in celebration of my 50th   
Presenting me with caramel to eat in its entirety and never gain an ounce   
Inviting me to laugh out loud with perfect teeth 
and even dance the tango without 
sucking in my breath.

I think I recognized you 
at the Stop and Shop with HER. 
Chocolate brownies, peanut brittle, Manchego cheese were nestled
like love tokens in the corner of her cart   
You lifted her on tiptoe 
for the macaroons   

I should have known you would forsake me 
for a tart

*****

Sue Ellen Lovejoy’s poems have appeared in and received awards from Massachusetts State Poetry Contest, Mississippi Valley Poetry Contest, New Renaissance, New Millennium, Tiger’s Eye, Progenitor, and others.