Gerry and I recently visited the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in Cleveland. The music that has accompanied my life, and the memories the music triggers had a strong emotional impact on me. That led to the following poem:
Old Age at the Rock Hall
Oh, yes, I remember that song.
But what I want is to hear it again.
Back in the steamy, gym for the Friday night dance
The girls on one side, giggly, with too much eye make-up - expertly applied,
And the boys on the other, practicing their bravado,
but so shy and new.
Hormones are flyin’ all over the place.
Then someone dims the lights and plays that song.
I’m filled with such wanting
I’m going to burst if I can’t be out on that dance floor,
leaning into someone, learning what wanting is about.
Not someone, him.
The curly haired guy with moon-doggy eyes
And strong arms.
Yeah, strong arms.
Can’t you see me?. I want to dance with you tonight.
I know you like me.
Your sister told my best friend you liked my red hair.
Oh, hurry, it’s 1967 and you have to ask me.
Oh, god, he’s walking over here.
Then you are here, and I am looking up at you.
You put your arms around my waist.
Mine go around your neck.
You pull me so close I can hardly breathe.
We slowly sway to the music, and your hands are trying things.
Stupid coach yells at us to leave some space.
Like hell.
Beautiful boy, you are holding the grown up me tonight
and this time, I’m going to let you do it.
This moment is too good to waste
and I will never get it back.
I remember that song, A sweet memory,
but not your breath against my ear
or the anticipation of everything to come.
And that, is why the Rock Hall made me cry.
