Young Love

who can say when it was love grew between
us: perhaps that first spring night swimming out
under midnight, having jumped the fence down
at the public pool. you were in a blue
one-piece that shone navy in the moonlight,
your friend wore a red bikini leaving
little to the imagination, but
you caught my eye with your bright open smile,
building in me the absolute need to
hear your laughter. having no suit, I was
far too timid to join you in the pool;
later at the dairy queen we shared two
blizzards, butterfinger for you, oreo
for me, and I made you laugh forever.

David M Pitchford
11 Oct 2011


2 thoughts on “Young Love

  1. I’m always curious if you’re writing from memory or just utilizing your full creative ability. You’re an awesome writer and I feel like I learn some new small thing about writing with every post you write. Please never stop posting here 🙂

  2. Thanks, Scott.
    My imagination is far clearer than my memory. I use both as fully as possible. This poem is built on a memory, but is fictionalized about 95% or so. Oreo was certainly never my flavor of blizzard.

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