Into the Hornet's Nest at Seagrave's Mill

Into the Hornets’ Nest
at Seagrave’s Mill

We called it Hornet Island.
Everyone knew the danger
of bees.

You and I, the brave ones,
could never resist a dare.

We decided to race it,
and I was first to reach shore.

No bees; just me
gloating a victory dance,
and you
giving chase.

When you caught me,
we wrestled in the grass
beneath shrub trees;
a familiar scenario, but
we were both suddenly new.

I was fourteen, and you
two years more.

Your hand cupped my bare knee;
as you leaned forward,
green eyes became my sky.

Your mouth,
in gentle pressure to mine,
was hesitant, salty, and stale sweet.

I had been kissed before;
chased on a playground,
cornered in a hallway,
surprised in a children’s game.

But, you
were the first time
I lingered.

You
were the first time
I wanted more.


Shirley Alexander
© 2009