August 7, 2011
The tactiturn girl nodded her head,
The boy giggled, insecure and vulnerable,
He wants to ask her, ask her to dinner
Yet he can’t. Too reticent, reserved.

The air breezy, trees dancing in the wind-
The sun shines, silently but strongly.
The grace of the weather is recluse,
Not spreading, or sharing with the boy and girl.

The girl dressed in bows, ribbons, and curls,
Vintage yet cute, stylish and-
Pale, she inched along on the cement.
Step by step. The turtle surpasses our walk.
Slow and sluggish, that hidden turtle-
Struts faster than the girl, and the boy.

He’s timid, she is too. Both of them-
Stand, awkwardly, neither expressive.
The thick air stumbles across the isolation,
The girl finds poise, she transforms, now dynamic-
Not wanting to take the lead, she halts.
His turn. Needing to act, to find the strength,
Hesitating he asks her about his dear friend,
The white polar bear, it weighs, just as much-
To break the ice. Though, here, not the case.
This ice is frozen, thick and resilient.

Conversation begins, jocular, yet empty
He turns, his manner withdrawn-
Starting he murmurs, beginning the dreaded words,
The perfect moment, too perfect,
He reverts back, no longer determined.
Retracting, he loses confidence,
The diner sits vacant,
The girl, the boy, motionless-
As they walk through the park.

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