there were grasshoppers on stalks
and it was just a short, secret walk
down to a creek no one else knew about but us.
Back there, we didn't care about the real world--
there were willows and birch
and a glorious feeling of being out of the reach
of those who didn't like the girls we'd become.
I brought Peach Creek and you had Berry Frost,
and then there was a bottle of Plum Hollow just in case.
You lay back on the grass and raised your arm,
shading your eyes as you watched the red-winged blackbirds race.
We should have been in class, mute and bored silly,
but instead we went down there and talked about everything,
most of it ridiculous, but it didn't matter--
we had the day and a buzz and our mood rings stayed cherry red.
I shouldn't have kissed you, I guess.
I shouldn't have given in to the comfort and the blur.
There were things we kept secret after that,
truth we saved for Annie Greensprings, and only spoke for her.
For the Real Toads mini-challenge. For anyone who doesn't know, Annie Greensprings was a cheap wine they had in the 70s. I loved the stuff. You kind of had to be there.