Like almost and
Sort of and
Mostly like all
My others our
First kiss mislanded
Like a parachutist
Flying into trees
My lips fell
Off target half
Lips half cheek
Embarrassed asking for
Another I climbed
Into my plane
Of nerves and
Jumped again this
Time landing squarely
On those full
Succulent soft lips
Nervous like a
Hatchling about to
Leap we met
And over wings
And beer we
Laughed told stories
And oh yes
Kissed just thrice
Softness and moist
Time stopped then
In that place
And while others
Saw they cheered
In their own
Quiet way like
That mother bird
Applauds hatchling takeoff
And then when
I thought I
Would never again
Drink the spigot
Of you quenched
My parchness like
Lazy falling rain
Bathes blossoms or
Fire hydrants tease
Dancing children on
Hot summer streets
Now sated leaning
Against you I
Wonder looking up
Did you know
I couldn’t speak
Except with lips
And then you
Said you’ve never
Had romance yet
Loved love is
In essence romance
It’s first flight
For a hatchling
And that initial
Skidded landing on
Marshy lake it’s
That one taste
Of snow and
Your first bitter
Lick of lemon
Romance is eyes
And smiles and
Chagrin caught staring
It’s that first
Tentative touch and
Oh yes that
First cautious kiss
This is romance
And to you
My dear boy
Poetry romance lives
And with one
Quick stroke of
A freshly dipped
Pen came a
Thin dark and
Scratchy word love
It either frightens
Or it invites
But never calms
Or quiets hearts
Unless of course
It can’t be
Heard or read
And by then
Remains as silent
As the snow
Just as cold
Read it and
Hear it now
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 