Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Beads

Thursday 3/19/09

Poem inspired by Dead Poets' Society

Beads

We were getting ready
to go to church.
I put on decent slacks
and a nice shirt.

My long, curly hair
surrounded my head.
At the last minute
I draped a rope

of beads around
my neck. When I
went downstairs,
my dad said

to get rid of the beads.
I refused. They looked
nice against my plain
shirt. Nothing wrong

with them. "You're not
going to church looking
like a hippie!" he yelled.
"Dad, everyone wears

them!" "Not my daughter!"
It was 1967, just the beginning
of the cultural revolution.
Tears in my eyes,

I took the beads off
and went to church
like a good girl.
But that evening

instead of going to CCD,
I met my boyfriend and we went
parking. I draped my beads
over his rear view mirror.



2 comments:

Geraldine said...

LOL, your dad meant well I guess?

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Linda's Poems