Love, 1939

—Christine Richardson

our first dance,
the gardenia you tucked
into my hair? The circle
of your arm beguiled
me as we twirled.
My gown of kings blue taffeta
rustled to the tunes
carried in the spring night air.
We dismissed the stroke of twelve
as though our interlacing fingers
could season time.
Our knotted secrets
yielded to the waltz.
We routed our lives
through that music,
the cadence of yearning.
It was all we had.

One thought on “Love, 1939

  1. Wonderful, Christine! You and your killer last lines! The "It was all we had" line makes you reconsider the whole poem, doesn’t it? Much of the poem depicts "old-fashioned" love, the kind you see in the black and white movies, the kind of chaste romance that is often glorified. But the last line suggests that there is perhaps more that is desired, that holding hands while dancing perhaps wasn’t enough. But hey, it was 1939. What clever, subtle irony, Christine, and what honesty!

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