First Yearning
It’s 1969. I’m 12. Quentin’s Theme
from Dark Shadows: Shadows of the Night
is playing on Top 40 radio. I’m swimming
in the inground pool of a friend
of my father’s. We’re on Russell Avenue
in Wyckoff, in Jersey. It’s a sunny,
mid-summer afternoon. It’s about
to get hotter.
The next-door pool boy has come
over to get instructions for next week.
Out of nowhere he catches my eye.
I leave my siblings and swim over
to the edge of the pool. His body
splayed out lazily in a lawn chair.
Perfect feet, bare. Jeans, tight.
Muscular chest, under a tee.
Strong arms, tanned. Short hair,
brown. Eager eyes. Relaxed smile.
A few years older, all masculine grace.
He moves and I feel the first
yearning for something I cannot name.