Rebecca Guess Cantor
Second Date
We drive down Grove Street on our second date,
And though we're quiet the space is filled with shy
But daring looks. The car reflects the sky
As we breeze past, surrounded by the weight
Of storms that seem to hang above a great
Expanse of clouds. But one cloud doesn't try
To wait. It bursts alone, and falls to dry
Pavement below. Instead of rushing by, my date
Just turns into a lot to chase the patch
Of rain that swirls around the trees, around
The cars, and trucks, the lamps and straight, white lines,
And we are brought together by the catch.
Then it's gone. We listen to the sound
Of breaths, of lives, that weave like climbing vines.
Girl
The rain falls coldly.
I see a girl and
The casual games she craves.
She runs past, hair spilling behind her.
I see a girl and
Her layered skirt, damp.
She runs past, hair spilling behind her,
Pink cheeks, pink purse, pink.
Her layered skirt damp
As she ignores the cold and wet, her
Pink cheeks, pink purse, pink
Lips she uses to kiss.
As she ignores the cold and wet, her
Charms cause boys to follow those
Lips she uses to kiss.
The boys hope that she is easy.
Charms cause boys to follow those
Girls who smile through the gray rain.
The boys hope that she is easy.
They see just a girl. They like
Girls who smile through the gray rain
And so they flirt and touch.
They see just a girl. They like
That they might have her,
And so they flirt and touch
As much as she will let them touch
That they might have her.
Until they pass her on.
As much as she will let them touch
She always thinks it's up to her
Until they pass her on.
And then she knows.
She always thinks it's up to her
The casual games she craves.
And then she knows--
The rain falls coldly.
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>Mezzo Cammin featured on the blog of The Best American Poetry
>The Mezzo Cammin Women Poets Timeline Project Turns 50--with Emily Dickinson
>The Mezzo Cammin Women Poets Timeline Project at Lincoln Center, Friday, April 11th, 7-9 PM. Rhina Espaillat, Angela O'Donnell, Erica Dawson, Maryann Corbett, and others.
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| Author Erica Jong |
| Marion Ettlinger: I was raised in Queens, New York, the daughter of German-Jewish immigrants. I was educated at The High School of Music & Art and The Cooper Union, both in Manhattan. Shortly after graduation, I moved to Northern Vermont, where I lived for seventeen years. Although I have been practicing portraiture since the Sixties, it was in the early Eighties that I found my true vocation in photographing poets and writers, who as subjects remain compelling and irresistible to me still. Using only natural light and black and white film, I continue this work based in Manhattan.
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