2 Sonnets

from summer 2005

What She Remembers Well, But Not Fondly

A face appeared to hover in the town’s
Marsh Hawk preserve behind the softball field,
way back beyond third base, a reluctant post
for an emaciated visionary
who wore a ring on every digit, thumbs
included. Glove between her knees, home plate
just an obscure echo of “swing batter”
behind her, that face grew encephalitic
and red. Was this a burning beachgoer
off-course with sun-poisoning? A balloon-
seller’s gimmick? She aimed her topaz ring
toward the sun and caught a glint to fend off
the face’s mad advance, but it heckled
and spat back whatever weapon felled her.



What She Remembers Fondly, But Not Well

Black cowboy boots. A floppy blond hairstyle
that covered one eye. A name sewn over
his pocket: Beau, or Glenn, or was it Rhett?
The May humidity intensified
the scent of marsh marigolds and the boy’s
hands, washed recently with black Lava soap
and hose-water in the gas station lot.
He looked too young to work there, and too clean.
It might have been the final day of school
because the sun was right overhead, noon,
and she had never been brave like the kids
who skipped out in nice weather. An embrace,
her first good kiss, and the discovery,
later, of spearmint gum in her pocket.