There are high hopes
hidden in a wrinkled note.
I circle yes or no before hiding it away
or Teacher will post it for all to say,
two little love birds sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!
Knowing they might be right,
but it’s not fair
waiting to ride this emotion coaster
with my hands in the air.
Trying not to care about the days' woes
we focus on its wows instead.
Staying out to play
till the lights come on
is our love’s guesstimate
of forever plus a day.
Three baby hairs on his chinny-chin-chin
must mean he’s a man.
Unsure if that means he’s mature.
The neon slurpee mustaches my face
as we race to the end of the cup.
Jumping up, I want to be the first
off the docks’ smooth boards
to dive into the blue wonder.
And as the sun dances off the water
I ponder the beginnings.
