Class of ’70

I’ve lost so much from
when last we met,
chunks of life gone with a
loss of courage and of memory.
Just like last week, when I realized
I’ve lost high school
from the library where I
can pull bushels of useless facts,
yet not four years of proofing
in the fires of adolescence.
Perhaps that’s because
I never did the fire-walk
across the coals of teen desire,
not for fear of getting burnt,
but more for fear of not.

Oh, there are some scars I find
in the corners where my other
secrets lie beneath the dust,
so I know I got close a few times.
But I can’t remember when.
Maybe the scars were from acid
thrown my way by the guys
with asbestos shoes
and courage to burn.
Doesn’t matter now,
since some of them are naught
but someone else’s history
to forget.
Just like mine.

2 thoughts on “Class of ’70

  1. Joe, I’m from the class of ‘80 and feel like you’re telling my story in this poem. There are key moments I recall, but even those have been fuzzed by the dust of time. Are you going to your reunion? I haven’t been to a single one yet, but wonder if I should this time.

    • Thanks, Dory. Needless to say, our 50th reunion got squished by the COVID pandemic. But I did connect with a few classmates online. That sure as heck remember stuff I said or did a heck of a lot better than I do…which is not at all. 😉😀

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