Hold The Door

Virginia Accent

I remember how you used to mention cliff-diving,
and watching buttercups grow.
About celebrating your twenty-first around the humid
glow of a village fire,
and the warm flow of the brewed drink
passed around in an unlabeled mug.

I was in sixth grade geography
and nothing was more interesting than sociology to me.
And here, I felt a chance to learn about their past through you.

But you came back, all short hair and makeup,
and the rings on your fingers were plastic
from that expensive Sweet Watermelon store,
where I once visited when we saw you in New York.

~Hammeh