No One Would Know

January 9, 2008
By Jennifer Vorpagel, Arlington Heights, IL

I would write a poem that no one
Would know was for you, or for anyone.
I would write about the poker cards
That you threw at me doing the “52 pick-up”
When you lost our first poker hand.
Or the root beer floats that you and I drank,
Trying to avoid the spoon in the cup
From going up our noses when we would take a sip.
Even the smoked salmon dinner
That your dad made, still steaming
When he placed it on the new china plate
Your grandma had given your mom for her birthday.
The salmon, covered with basil and other herbs,
Smoked vegetables surrounding it.
I would write until my hand went numb,
But no one will know this is for you.

I would write about the trumpet solo you never played,
And the ‘Zoolander’ movie that you and I will never see.
I would write about the stuffed husky I named Corey
That your mom gave me after she picked
Out what she wanted of yours.
I would write about NBC news.
About the accident.
The front page of the Herald.
The voice of the news caster saying,
“Just last night, a boy from Buffalo Grove High School died
Here at the intersection of Dundee and Schoenbeck…”
I could say that,
But no one would know
Everything in this poem is for you.

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