From 2006…

My Last Hero, 1984

Halcyon summer of firsts and lasts, and rite of

Passage for the teen I would become.  As heavy

Humid heat moved each day to cooler night, so by

Time’s alchemy I waxed from carefree child to awkward adolescent,

In love with my last hero, Indiana Jones.

The cold glass callous to a girl who wore glasses,

And burning to be other than I was, I nagged

And begged to have my ears pierced; learned to like coffee; found Radio One;

Shaved my legs – unfamiliar with my own contours

The cool water crimsoned as the cruel blade slipped:

Silvered skin still puckers above the bone. – When

I hear ‘The Boys of Summer’Ψ my tongue can taste the memories of those

Impossible warm nights; a cocktail of cut grass …

Black coffee …sweet honeysuckle … cool water… my

Mother’s cigarettes – and a surge of secret mystery in the bloodstream,

A million and one emotions I cannot always name.


Ψ ‘The Boys of Summer’ by Don Henley (MCA Records, 1984)

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