José by Brigita Pavshich
That summer
of long shadows
and warm winds,
it stirs me still.
I squealed with indignation as your ball
landed on my beach towel.
Your shimmering eyes,
with hair
that impossibly matched
the sun and the sand.
You brought me a gift of a conch
and seaweed,
held my hand when boys pulled my pig-tails
and I cried.
I caught you peeking
through a hole in the privy
and told on you.
Confusion of love pulled at me
as you stole my kiss
behind the beach hut.
The sun dipped into the surf
as you waved wide-eyed
through the back window of your parents’ car.
Gentle spots of rain
gather in your lost footsteps
in the dunes.
That summer
of long ago,
it fills me with grief
for things lost, left, loved.
Brigita Pavshich lives in Slovenia. She has published short stories and poems in All Things Girl and Your Messages collection. She works as a literary translator and is currently finishing her first novel. She can also be found at her website: http://www.pausesbetweenthenotes.com
