Victor, welcome back, honey. I know that song, Maryland. It's by The Spaniels, right?
What in the world are you doing saying good night in the early morning?
A white ibis is fluttering its wings at my pond and there is actually condensation on the screen in my Florida room. I took a peek at my driver's license, and the picture looks rather decent.
Soooooo
Katherine Forman:
Rose-Colored Glasses
A word and I am nine
fussing with the floral pinkness
in my hair and on my hand,
Jumping impatiently around while the
all-seeing video camera catches my
dreadfully juvenile behavior at such an occasion,
Gorging on the pink mints that are the one
pink thing not imprinted with "Happy Anniversary"
or "Happy Fiftieth Louis & Lucile,"
Fidgeting with the pinkly poufy plumes of the
pen for the guest book I'm supposed to be
manning (nine isn't old enough to say "personing"),
Crossing my eyes for a video I never saw
and now that its taker is gone I never will
(but how could I know?),
Adding my smile to the rosy overdose
as the camera captures my crooked grin,
my flat hair and too-small Garfield glasses,
Wishing I could go home and discard
the unnatural concoction of lace and polyester
and the itching elastic binding the dyed carnations
to my little-used writing hand--
A word, and I am nine
And silent with a flood of memory.
The silence perplexes him
As the remembrance hinders me.