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v2:

Susanna's Summer Kiss


In high school I lay on the concrete deck
in my first bikini, the speakers
hung in the flowering magnolia
blaring Got to Get You Into My Life.

Boys were everywhere,
cannonballs cratering
the pool’s surface--or strolling by
with the rakish swagger of crows,

and my friends twittering away like wrens
by the chainlink fence.

I worried the chances of a first kiss
would override caution when Jeff
suddenly lay down next to me,
talking about our classes

and Mrs. Monroe with her light
down of a mustache.

I was nervous, as if standing
at the end of a high dive board
for the first time. My friends gawked
as Jeff’s hand touched mine,

my body trembling like a light
riffling a pond’s surface.

He leaned over me, I felt myself
swaying like water in a carried bucket.
Any moment I would slosh
over the brim,

his hand swimming
just below my breast.

I stared up holding my breath,
light from the pool wavering
over his chest. I was all water,
trembling at his touch,

storm clouds on the horizon
and my heart, a spring
swimming to the surface
to meet his full wet
lips.

v1:

Susanna's Summer Kiss


In high school I lay on the concrete deck
in my first bikini, the speakers
hung in the flowering magnolia
blaring Got to Get You Into My Life.

Boys were everywhere,
cannonballs cratering
the pool’s surface--or strolling by
with the rakish swagger of crows,

and my friends twittering away like wrens
by the chainlink fence.
Boys were as mysterious
as the rules of baseball.

I worried the chances of a first kiss
would override caution when Jeff
suddenly lay down next to me,
talking about our classes:

Mrs. Monroe with her light
down of a mustache,
geometry like the doodling
patterns on a subway wall.

I was nervous, as if standing
at the end of a high dive board
for the first time. My friends gawked
as Jeff’s hand touched mine,

my body trembling like a light
riffling a pond’s surface.
He leaned over me, I felt myself
swaying like water in a carried bucket.

Any moment I would slosh
over the brim, his hand
swimming just below my breast.
I stared up holding my breath,

light from the pool wavering
over his chest. I was all water,
trembling at his touch,
storm clouds on the horizon

and my heart, a spring
swimming to the surface
to meet his full wet
lips.

Real. Excellent voice. Honestly, the poem tends to stray in the last two stanzas. I think it sufficient we know well the giddy feelings. I think you could cut them completely. Nice work. I always hated the Jeffs.

I enjoyed the story telling in this gem,
I feel this is the way to go for your life
stories, modern, 1950's, well told,
your life interest in birds permeates
many of your poems to their advantage.

Ken, Frank — thank you

revised

To tell you the truth, eventhough, leaving off the first 5 stanzas takes away the time period, I think this is the poem. The trouble with my edit is that the reader doesn't know they are at the pool:

Susanna's Summer Kiss

I was nervous, as if standing
at the end of a high dive board
for the first time. My friends gawked
as Jeff’s hand touched mine,

my body trembling like a light
riffling a pond’s surface.

He leaned over me, I felt myself
swaying like water in a carried bucket.
Any moment I would slosh
over the brim,

his hand swimming
just below my breast.

I stared up holding my breath,
light from the pool wavering
over his chest. I was all water,
trembling at his touch,

storm clouds on the horizon
and my heart, a spring
swimming to the surface
to meet his full wet
lips.

I like what you have suggested, Billy....certainly worth strong consideration