I am going to share a poem I wrote in high school that was published in the school’s newspaper. I was and am still very proud of this poem. It was written in 1986 by me, well, my maiden named me Christee Maraschiello.
Back Porch Swing
As the leaves turn to yellow and the grass withers away,
it reveals the bare red earth below.
The sun is swallowed behind the sloping mountains so high and
the all-knowing wind blows a fierce warning against my face.
Lost in thought of long ago,
I focus on the old swing out back. On that swing we shared
many highs and many lows, me and you.
We yelled and we whispered.
Together we carved the memories into the wood.
So much love we had.
Then the harvest moon swept it up along with unshed tears.
Friends ask “What happened”.
Birds chirp “What went wrong?”.
The wolves howl a mournful goodbye
to the one I loved long ago
on the back porch swing.
I have a few more that I will post once I find them.