The Reunion Poem by Ann Beard

I stared at the envelope time, time again
it had lain on the mantle for almost a week.
Temptation to journey back forty years,
to remember naivety - fullness of cheek

The flames still lick in the dead of night
I can still see the faces of those who burned
And Yes. Oh Yes! I remember the day
Insanity fought on the side of the spurned.

Is it possible?
Could I, now face the tormentors
who pulled down my pants, in the old gym hall
Laughed as I blushed in her presence,
then, spitefully broadcast my penis was small.

The flames still lick in the dead of night
I can still see the faces of those who burned
And Yes. Oh Yes! I remember the day
Insanity fought on the side of the spurned.

The reunion is planned for those who survived.
a disruption that time is unmoved to repair
For age to align with the ex-adolescents
Who sadly remember, they had been there.

The flames still lick in the dead of night
I can still see the faces of those who burned
And Yes. Oh Yes! I remember the day
Insanity fought on the side of the spurned.

In the blistering heat I had sought her hand.
Determined, to rescue young Rosalind Moore,
but, enveloped in flames she faded from sight.
Whilst foe after foe forced me back out the door.

The flames still lick in the dead of night
I can still see the faces of those who burned
And Yes. Oh Yes! I remember the day
Insanity fought on the side of the spurned.

It is said flames began, in the seventh form gym.
Among girlie mags - fag ends - and other debris.
Four innocents died - cause of fire still unknown.
I am confident now,

they would not suspect me.



Roan copyright © May 2014