[A traveling poem is begun by one woman, then passed on to the next, and so forth, until each has written a stanza. This traveling poem was begun by Zazu.]
In high school, my best friend and I
would walk down the street with our
arms linked, ala Laverne and Shirley.
We shared our clothes, our lipstick
and cologne, and all of our deepest, darkest
secrets. I was even willing to share her
boyfriend—so we wouldn’t have to double-
date. She said, “No!”
Silly girl.
With that unblinking certitude that
17-year-olds possess,
we knew we would be best friends forever.
Sock hops, bunny hops,
Sadie Hawkins, too.
Angora-topped, saddle shoes
each with a big hairdo!
“We have no brakes and we can not stop!”
We chanted this all around the blacktop,
running into other kids without a thought.
Playground rhymes to a simple tune.
Childhood ends all too soon.
School, for me, was an escape.
At school I could laugh and
be with people who liked me.
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