First Kiss For K. W. Poem by Daniel Brick
First Kiss For K. W.
Our first picnic was on a hillside
she chose. A patch of sumac grew
near the top, and she led me into
its maze. She bent her lithe body
gracefully through its branches.
My added height added clumsiness,
and twice I stumbled, but she pretended
not to notice. When she turned around
to look at me, which was often, her smile
was like the scent of lilacs. There was
nothing more wonderful in my life than
the scent of lilacs and her smile...
We reached a larger clearing, still surrounded
by arching sumac, where she spread a blue
blanket festooned with yellow flowers. She
pressed my shoulders with both of her hands,
so that I sat down. Then she sat next to me,
the sides of our bodies touching, as if they were
meant to be one. Now there was a third wonder
in my life! If she had not spoken of inconsequential
things, I would have dissolved into her warmth. But
I responded, and her smile became gentle laughter.
And so we spent an afternoon together, inside the
sumac enclosure, under a perfect blue summer sky.
Our first kiss had happened on a night of fireflies
the previous summer. While the grownups lounged
in lawn chairs, swatting mosquitoes and swapping
adult tall tales, we kids played hide-and-seek,
in a glowing twilight, pierced by scores of flashing
fireflies. She was hiding behind the house hedge,
where I found her, or had she found me? My breath
stopped. With my right hand I stroked her face, then
I held her face with both hands. She came closer. Our
lips touched for a moment beyond counting. When we
separated - the grownups were calling us - I was not
a separate being: I was linked to her, she was within me.
What did she feel then? What happened to her? To us?
Questions I cannot answer... I remember a night
illuminated by fireflies and a first kiss; I remember
an afternoon on a hillside, nestled side by side.
And what I remember has lasted a lifetime....
Wonderful poem! and I like the description - it is full of seriousness, tenderness, delight! Not long ago I reread a few first pages from Lolita Nabokov's - it was also about the first kiss - but it was full of some joke or humor or dirt - I don't know but smth unpleasant to me. And parents also called them away. but your poem - is positive and better than Nabokov's.
This is such a touching and descriptive tribute to a first kiss. I love how you combined Fireflies and First Kisses, an aptly paired grouping for youth! This is the second time, I have read about sumac in your poetry...even though I live in MN too, I was not aware of it, except as a spice used for cooking. The fruit is a beautiful bright red, and it is a bush that grows everywhere.? What I like about this poem, is the choice of memory...first kiss/first love...very relatable. Secondly, they way in which the story is told, from the perspective of the young man, vs. the old man remembering...or at least the memory has a very youthful quality to it. Third, I like how you conveyed the awkwardness of the young man and the bossiness of the young woman in the first stanza...this reminded me of my own observations of preschool aged boys and girls playing together...guess the girls are still bossing the boys in adolescence! Finally, you did a beautiful job of weaving in imagery of summer. Is this poem told before Daniel split into 3? ;) This was a very pretty poem. Well done!
Oh! This is so lovely and sweet! No wonder why everything is depicted with such clarity and accuracy; the innocence of youth, the first love, the first kiss - remain unaltered in ones memory. And the last line confirmes that. This is the best time of year - Summer; to read a poem like this one, remembering lost loves, lost summer loves. A delightful poem!
Well Daniel this is a beautiful story of first love and innocence.Really enjoyable read love it
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 11:43:53 PM # 1.0.0.1119
thanks for directing me to this one, daniel. no need to ask why you remember this one. sweet. lovely... it fascinates me what we remember—the few things that stick out among so many. my poem, a college memory expresses this. and island chain (maybe you've read it) refers to the prominent memories (like islands) in my four decades plus with my wife. -glen