In 1968



In 1968….

I was wild weed drifting
in flash notes when July burned
deliverance into blue eyes.
Naïve had long been plucked
from fragile leaves, but I blushed
the virgin pink of a first kiss.

Born female in a stone garden
I was feral glass, boot high,
waiting for the next shattering.
In the summer hum of guitars
you were a place of roots, sunshine,
a prince guiding my heart to my own rescue.

In 1968…

My world turned upside down
and I wasn’t hurt in the fall.

©Susie Clevenger 2017

My poem was inspired by these beautiful photos.
 Real Toads ~ Fragile, Natural, Wild with Magaly

Comments

Anonymous said…
"but I blushed
the virgin pink of a first kiss.

Born female in a stone garden
I was feral glass, boot high,
waiting for the next shattering"

Swoon.
July 8, 2017 at 5:21 PM
kaykuala said…
you were a place of roots, sunshine,
a prince guiding my heart to my own rescue

How lucky to have someone who had extended a helping hand when one was in real need!

Hank
July 8, 2017 at 7:19 PM
Outlawyer said…
I love the idea of being boot high--so many undertones in that == and overtones--I am picturing Nancy Sinatra! Thanks, Susie--super sweet. k.
July 8, 2017 at 8:47 PM
Anonymous said…
Ah... those times, so rich. Now there in a garden, ever to bloom. Thank you.
July 8, 2017 at 8:56 PM
Magaly Guerrero said…
In this world of chaos and dead ends, a voice that teaches us how to guide ourselves is the greatest of gifts. Yay, for your Prince.
July 8, 2017 at 10:47 PM
brudberg said…
Somehow all your image tied so much into my image of 1968. To have been part of that is like a creation process through destruction. A mended heart is so much more beautiful
July 9, 2017 at 12:43 AM
Kim M. Russell said…
I love this poem, Susie! Especially the lines:
'Naïve had long been plucked
from fragile leaves, but I blushed
the virgin pink of a first kiss'
and
'I was feral glass, boot high,
waiting for the next shattering'.
July 9, 2017 at 2:06 AM
Sanaa Rizvi said…
"Naïve had long been plucked from fragile leaves, but I blushed the virgin pink of a first kiss" ... this is so beautiful!
July 9, 2017 at 3:52 AM
Kerry O'Connor said…
What a wonderful way to remember the moment and the one who caught you up as you fell. This poem is so romantic, without sentiment, authentic and heartfelt.
July 9, 2017 at 5:54 AM
hedgewitch said…
I especially love the final long stanza, Susie--and I remember well the flashing brilliance and destruction of those times from which we emerged in all our broken glass glory.
July 9, 2017 at 7:01 AM
Old Egg said…
This took me back so many years and yet I regret not one moment of them as I stood tapping my feet to the beat of the band that stranger to me now.
July 9, 2017 at 7:15 AM
Fireblossom said…
That is just the best kind of fall there can be.
July 9, 2017 at 12:54 PM
Sherry Blue Sky said…
"feral glass, waiting for the next shattering". Wowzers, you know how to Use Your Words. Wonderful, Susie. And I love the happy ending! which was a beginning and still going on.......
July 9, 2017 at 5:21 PM
Antonio said…
beautiful poem....congratulations!
1968 was a special year....
July 10, 2017 at 7:58 AM
WildChild47 said…
stunning from start to finish
July 10, 2017 at 5:18 PM
tonispencer said…
I often have to remind myself that broken or specially cut glass can make beautiful images when set in lead. I totally relate to this wonderful poem! Beautiful work.
July 10, 2017 at 7:57 PM
Anonymous said…
this is so real it carries us back to another time
July 10, 2017 at 9:22 PM
ayala said…
A lovely capture, Susie.
July 11, 2017 at 5:24 AM
Marian said…
I love this, Susie.
July 13, 2017 at 4:55 AM
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