Curly Hair Pantoum Poetry
Sara Sherr
Yarmouth, Maine, USA
Your face pressed cold against the school bus window you took this all personally her gold brown hair, her lightning hot hands, the heart drawn in pencil on the wall If she loved you back she didn’t have the courage to say.
Once you were three, with curly hair love roared in waves as tall as homes longing banged like lighting across the ocean. In the photo you’re wide-eyed, your parents on either side. Love roared in waves as tall as homes you peed your pants on the playground (you were seven) in the photo you’re wide-eyed, your parents on either side. Can you keep this secret forever?
You took this all personally the light, the snow, the school bus. If she loved you back she didn’t have the courage to say and who could you ever trust?
You peed your pants on the playground (you were seven) She crossed your mind too much (she was a girl, you were a girl) Can you keep this secret forever? And then you turned 16, and then you turned 16.
The light, the snow, the school bus surging, dancing, and singing, in infinite waving circles. And who could you ever trust? I’m here, I’m 30, I saw you
She crossed your mind too much (she was a girl, you were a girl) Your face pressed cold against the school bus window and then you turned 16, and then you turned 16. Her gold brown hair, her lightning hot hands, the heart drawn in pencil on the wall.
surging, dancing, and singing in infinite waving circles Once, you were three with curly hair I’m here, I’m 30, I saw you, longing banged like lightning across the ocean.
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