we were nine

playing pirates in my mother’s

garden. digging for treasure among

the tulips and hydrangeas, but all

I could think about was you. the sunlight

illuminated streaks of gold

in your  dark hair, and your eyes

shone with excitement on your 

dirt-streaked face. my first 

crush. more than any precious 

jewels, more than riches and ancient

crowns; you shined brighter

than them all. 

you threw a small rock at me

when you noticed my stare

(i didn’t know how 

to gain your affection

so i sat dumbfounded and watched)

you laughed then, a beautiful 

sound, a symphony

and chased me around

the yard with the broomstick handles

we pretended were swords. i still

have that rock, somewhere; the

pebble sat on my windowsill

for years.

- s.p.