We all know someone
who knew someone
who was once “once bitten, twice burned,”
no three-charm, went down,
way down, for the count.

Daffodil daze,
long ago summer,
when we’d samba soft,
swept an upstate girl,
who smelled like lemon,
cloudy sweet, beechnut,
she glided on sand.

We’d kiss, I’d open my eyes before she,
it just never failed – surprised she
would smile, seeing me
again for the only time.

Outside Vails Mills,
there’s a drive-in
long closed,
used to show Cinemascope,
where girls in pink cashmere
took my breath away
long before intermission,
and again when the credits ran.

Cars pulling through the gate,
2 tickets and sodas in hand,
waves of mosquito white-light
from the projection booth,
color-soaked 2D flickers,
cheap speaker hooked
there on the window rolled down,
at the very start,
a Saturday night picture show.

© Carlos Chagall, 2013