absolute rubbish

I remember a wistful evening I spent in Charlottetown
on the day before Victoria’s Day
two years before my life changing colon surgery

I was standing adrift in a field of witch hazel
near a lichen-covered pond full of ribiting bull frogs
beetles were a-buzz in the cool, close country air

the smells of warm horse apples wafted effortlessly on the air
from a barn-like structure on the edge of collapse
on the far side of a border fence made of cedar logs
and mixed with the peat from the nearby swamps
to form a heavy aroma that simply screamed “rural humility”

I, a young and foolish boy of twenty-six
burning with desire and Vick’s Vaporub
her, a vibrant girl dressed in a paper bag
she stole from the grocery store
her eyes peering into my own with a look
that seemed to cry out in a passion-filled wail
“Why is there pumpkin in your teeth?”
I knew what she was really saying

I will never forget Wilma
no matter how I try
pass the beans, please

Published by bernardsbarnes

Writer. Artist. Performer. A little boy dreaming of the stars.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: