We drive through our town; I remark
How fireplaces create smoke signals
While Smoke gets in your eyes plays
On the radio, in my orange ’72 Duster,

426 big block - that I had bought with
The money I made working blacktop
And fixed with my dad those nights in
Our garage – and you were there, in’83.

That amazing summer was magic and rainbows
And I knew we’d never have that fine a time again
You sat there snapping your gum incessantly
Glopping on strawberry lip-gloss and brushing

Your gleaming golden locks with a giant pink
Plastic comb, I’d won for you at the carnival
While I in my faded Levi’s and worn out
Leather, duck-tail and all, just let it be

Then there was your so-called “best” friend,
What was her name? The one that told you
You can do better than me? She was right.
Although I often think that I’d have made

Something more of myself with you on my team,
By my side like we used to whisper it would be,
Instead I weep for unfilled years from then till now,
- And every summer that returns to autumn.