Seventeen

When I was seventeen

you let me be a 

human creature

rather than a child

one whose gifts

were admirable

and you looked straight

into my eyes

with your own 

blue-grey like the ocean

on a day of sun. 

That day

I tipped over the brink

of womanhood 

like falling over a great wave

and although I didn’t know

how to speak

I felt that you recognized

and understood

that there were years

of poetry

waiting inside me.

Twice we have 

stumbled across

one another 

without matching our 

movement 

in this dance

but I have made 

a place for you

to pass through

whenever the stars 

are shining.