49

It’s our anniversary. We make a good team. Here’s a poem I wrote sometime back. The line breaks suffer in this setup, but it’s the words.

“Should I?”

In my little blue ‘68 Volkswagen, I-5 headed north,
summer, 1969, she smiled and laughed next to me.
I smiled too - I liked her - but inside rolled the battle of nerves.

Should I hold her hand? I thought.
What if she doesn’t want to? I worried.
What if she doesn’t like me? I considered.

But she’s smiling, and laughing. I remembered.

And just like that I reached, took her left hand with my right.
She didn’t even look at me, she kept right on smiling,
and her blonde hair waved across her cheek.

Her hand was soft and warm, and her thumb moved across my palm.
An AM radio song serenaded, and we smiled,
holding hands,

I-5 headed north,
in my blue ‘68 Volkswagen,
summer, 1969.