They are scattered

Maybe all but gone now,

But I wish for a hint

Of them

In seeing them shine, then

A beautiful kind of embarrassment

for you, and for me.

That first day I was trembling hard

Away from mommy, the first time, pulled

From her smile and mommy’s tender-warm love

 to the looming pale-green dome

of bus number 46 in ‘76.

Toward the cold, stern and tired eyes of Mrs. Katiner.

I spell it wrong now, and would get Mr. Yustock’s paddle.

Him, too, I misspell, but I don’t misspell you, Renee.

But she put me with the tall and pretty blonde, more like a

mantis than a unicorn,

but so pretty was she,

with long powerful and lovely legs, for a child.

She knew I would not cry or tell,

so she kicked me hard for my sins

I had yet to commit.

Black and blue shins

All up and all down.

Her eyes flashed with a hatred,

I know not why

But I summed up the courage and stood up

No longer peeing in my pants

Too afraid to ask

I said, with big eyes and trembling voice,

“May I sit next to Renee?”

With long red hair and timid-shy face,

Glaring down at her coloring book,

I and she never said a word

For 9 months

we sat together.

You were the first girl … I asked.

You, were beautiful Renee,


Kind and feminine and lived at the

End of my childhood


in ‘76.

Whenever I see a little girl

With red hair and freckles,

I think of you.

She is iridescent, like you,

And, I the hopeful child again,

Just wanting to have a true friend.

Just a moment,

a happy spot of my childhood back,

one lost . . .

written by Earl Yarington @2019 all rights reserved (previously published under yogiortner)

Published by EarlY

I have a PhD in literature and criticism and have taught literature, technical, and research writing for over 16 years. I am also a graduate student in social work in my final year. My focus area is with men that suffered past abuse, sex offending against children and with paraphilia. I will also complete my sex therapist certification by next year as well.

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