ETTA, 1958

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ETTA, 1958

He had twisted his ankle.
His foot was swollen and it ached.
It hurt to the degree that he could no longer concentrate.
He had lost the capacity to figure.
His mind no longer able to grasp even very simple things,
His eyes appeared vacant, as if in a trance.

He was young and he kissed the back of her hand,
He kissed her about the face,
He kissed her eyelids,
And he rested his lips at the base of her neck.

He had kissed the skin all-over both her shoulders.

He and she were minors, and their ardency,
Its possible consequence worried their parents.

There was no question about the boy being strong.

Underneath a sky possessing countless bodies of light,
They stood next to a Sycamore,
The tree grew along a muddy creek,

Which emptied west into a river,
A river the early French settlers had named Des Plaines.

He thought that they might sail away upon the waters.

The Milky Way seemed to stretch out across

The vault of deep space more like some

Will-o-wisp patch of terrestrial weather

Than the starry edge of our own galaxy.

Yet more, much more than the taste of salt

From the tiny sweat along her brow, more than how

Moisture had collected and now had formed

Fetchingly to glisten upon her shoulders,

It was a night whose such awesome, absolute clarity
Enhanced a once-in-a-life-time, white light streak,

At its end a mighty, bright flash erased the sky.

Though now near midnight, all nature cast a quick shadow.

Within the warmth of a very late, August evening,

Beside the trunk of a Sycamore tree,

Upon the bank of a muddy creek, a small water,

A nameless feed to the river,

The early French settlers had named Des Plaines,

In a momentary all-over illumination,

The youths saw their silhouette,

They were merged as one,

They saw themselves fused into a single shade.

A low thunder followed, and, there, in the instant,

All of heavenly influence fell upon their embrace.

And when they turned and gazed upon each other,

Before either of them had spoken a word,

They had come to believe that the memory of this event

And its retelling had made a place for them in immortality.