Poetry: Girls like Marissa by Emalisa Rose
This time, it’s polkadots, white
and magenta. Hers was a set -
boots, hat, umbrella, even the slicker
in sync. They hung in the cubby
next to my own. Mine -
“nondescript, but yet functional.”
She’d smile and she’d wink with
her pearls of white teeth, all aligned,
unlike mine, aching for braces.
Mom said I’d get them when Dad’s
job got steady and maybe some
“fancy” clothes, girls like Marissa had.
But between teeth and umbrellas
plain stuff and fancy stuff and hearing
a friend of her dad’s gave her top tickets
and passes backstage, to see Davy Jones
and the Monkees, it was too much to bear
for this thirteen year old.
Rainy day Rockaways, late 1960’s.
When I learned about plastic spoons,
silver spoons, desire and envy.
(Though I have to confess, given the chance
to change lives with her, at that time,
in a heartbeat, I’d have done so)
Emalisa Rose, when not writing poetry, enjoys crafting and leading a birding group on Sundays. She also volunteers in animal rescue, tending to cat colonies in TNR programs. Her latest collections are On the Whims of the Crosscurrents, published by Red Wolf Editions and This Water Paint Life, published by Origami Poems Project.
Post a Comment