THURSDAY: High School Dance


Mark Clement is a member of the Ontario Poetry Society. Copyright rests with the author.

Hear Mark read High School Dance

Elvis said what the teenage heart could not.
The girls, oh the girls! Mysterious stirrings,
fear, sweaty palms and the smooth skin of her cheek;
dimly lit memories of the slow-dance.

Chubby Checker and the twist freed the heart.
The girls, far enough away, part of the crowd,
all gyrated frantically beneath the mirrored ball.
Looking at my girl, looking at the girls, looking.

Later, we slow-danced along dark city streets,
moved quickly past streetlights that might reveal
a beating heart, climbed the porch steps slowly
for that mysterious, sweaty-palm goodnight kiss.

One comment

  1. Audrey Austin

    Hi Mark, your poem is a wonderful reminder of long ago high school days — brought back many good memories. Thank you 🙂

Post a comment

You may use the following HTML:
<a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <s> <strike> <strong>