"Youth" by Terri Lynn Cummings

Youth

Terri Lynn Cummings

He died each night in the bed

whose skin he peeled back for sleep

and dreamed of the girl he wanted 

to please. They hid in a cave 

of branches, sugar on tongues 

and the green kiss of grass

in summer’s free heat. Earth’s 

anchor in the undertow of magma 

slipped through their veins 

to the heart of hands clasped. 

Every smile a curve of the moon

every breath a bud of their bond

untouched by daylight

and the sharp pain of growth.

Poet’s Notes:  I composed this poem as spring was approaching summer, taking a look back to childhood’s innocent awakenings. I remember sharp growing pains that woke me at night – and the sweet pain from liking the first, special boy, which kept me awake.