There’s more to this poem; I already know this. I’ve sat with it for a good week. It’s tired of my company right now, so we’re gonna get together again soon. In the meantime (and because I wanted to get as close to 30 poems in this challenge as possible)…
We’re 11 year old girls
on your brother’s skateboard
floating down the middle of a parking lot
straining the last days of summer
through our teeth.
We are preparing a picnic
of lunchmeat on Wonder Bread, and potato chips
and as much candy as the $2 we have among us
will buy from the corner store.
We are saying goodbye at 6 a.m.
the stickiness of the day sneaking in under cover of dew
that mists and turns to moustaches
on our upper lips.
We have as much giggle as gumption
in letters we write between Labor Day and next August
when we begin again,
this time as 12 year old girls.
