OREGON 1947

A GIRL AND HER FRIENDS ON A BEACH IN OREGON IN 1947.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Once your bare feet hit

That sea water it

Was like being kissed

 

By Henry Hotlips

All over again,

And even the four

 

Girls who are with you

On Crescent Beach that

Day have no idea

 

About that, or if

They do they have kept

Quiet about it,

 

Which being those girls

Is quite unlikely,

And the feeling of

 

The sea biting at

Your toes was Henry

All over again,

 

His mouth sucking the

Digits until you

Squirmed with laughter and

 

Kept yelling for him

To stop, but he kept

On sucking and you

 

Nigh on wet yourself

And as the feet are

Completely covered

 

By the water and

The chill really starts

To take hold on your

 

Flesh, you remember

How he moved over

Your body with his

 

Lips kissing each warm

Particle of flesh

As he went, stopping

 

Now and then to press

The hot kiss home deep

Into the skin which

 

Caused you to explode

With all those hormones

Your mother had not

 

Told you about but

Kept to her sweet self,

Maybe out of fear

 

Or maybe she just

Didn’t know what the

Heck it was but just

 

Let it roll over

And through her flesh, but

Never told you one

 

Word and you and the

Other girls in the

Sea broke out in a

 

Loud swell of laughter

As the sea and wind

And excitement of

 

Being there and so

Alive and young and

Having the whole of

 

Life at your tender

Fingertips doesn’t

Dawn on you how soon

 

It all goes, yet slow,

Slow like a leaky

Old tap drips drips drips.

Reviews

[sirenribbon@thehptshirt..]

So happy to have found this gem. Absolutely Golden. Cheers

[Coyote Poetry]

The poem is beautiful and written with great skill. Thank you for sharing these powerful and strong stories of a more gentle past. I like the feel of gentleness and innocence in your words. A outstanding poem..
Coyote

[just rose.]

Incredibly powerful and it's totally appropriate for the era but women in those days were our moms and grandmoms, & so, so much of that thinking still persists, that delicious and shameful dichotomy. Just beautiful.