Passage
by Laurinda Lind
When you got back from Nicaragua
you looked like a beach boy, umber-
armed from the revolution, new-bearded
and ragged after a month of Montezuma’s
revenge. I biked to meet you on the road
since my car was defunct and it was
dangerous to be together. You smelled
of summer when I sat in your sedan
and, properly, we didn’t touch until
you parked by a trestle and we hiked
deep down a June-heavy lane. After
that, you braked the car by every bridge
to kiss me crazy—by now, how many spans
past. Beaches grew cold beneath the frost,
the Nicaraguans bided their little while
then sank from the news cycle, and we
both changed too, charged as we were
by that scented season before the clock
caught and raced us forward to the fall.
First published in Exit 13
Photo by Epic Stock.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: During an uneasy time in the Americas, I was in a double-rebound relationship that everyone around us predicted would end disastrously. That was 35 years ago, and we are still together.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Laurinda Lind lives in New York’s North Country. Some of her writing is in Blue Earth Review, New American Writing, Paterson Literary Review, and Spillway. She is a Keats-Shelley Prize winner and a finalist in several other writing competitions.
LOVE this poem!
I love this. So visceral and sticks the landing so beautifully.
Such sweet memories….dangerous together indeed!!