When I Was Fifteen

When I was fifteen it was a very good year
For flat-chested girls with no independent
   means …
I was a typical teenager who did not know beans,
Did not dance or sing or stay out late drinking beer

Like the “in” girls in my class: Homebody, as it
   were,
I guess most people would have called me quick to
   cling
But I liked staying home—always Mommie’s
   helper
Around the house, out shopping, out walking!

Yes, my Mother was always my best friend:
   partings,
When I was fifteen, were hard, though I had good
   friends
At school, and I always learned many things;
But mostly I learned from my parents,
          and their amens …

And their stories of life when they were young
          and free …
Maybe it’s different if you have young folks
Who are always busy, always on the go,
But my parents were already old slowpokes,

And had already done what they’d wanted to do.
Mother was fifty-five, Father was sixty-five.
I guess they felt lucky just to still be alive.
But that made it harder for me when I lost them!

For they both died so very soon … and I was left …
When I was fifteen and sensed that they’d soon be
   gone,
That Time was short, that I would soon be bereft,
That I would rise up in a cold and lonely dawn …
 
I realized that I would have the rest of life
To discover the awesome outside world,
Without them! Time was a well-honed knife,
Time was fleeting, Time was tricky,
          Time was curled …

When I was fifteen, I was innocent and green,
Reaching out to dream, to live, to learn, to burn,
Reaching out to the wide sense of history
That my loving parents represented to me …

When I was fifteen …