Memories of Snow

Reminiscience of My First Love

Reminiscence of My First Love

I remember the power
of the machine.

I remember the way
its hard metal felt
between my thighs.

I remember the glint
of its ebony beauty
in the moonlight.

I remember the scent
of its warm body
beneath me.

I remember the wind
whispering seductively
as it blew caution,
his words,
his odor,
his memory behind me,
like lint
from his black leather jacket.

I remember the name
of the machine.

And even today,
if given the choice between
I would choose
the Harley.

Poet's Note: ▼

I wrote this sometimes in 156 B.E. I remember reading it at an Open Mic poetry reading at one of the coffee Houses in Las Vegas. The end surprised one of the male listeners because he thought I was going to say John Deer tractor rather than Harley. His reaction still upset me because he thought I was--in his mind--just a "hick". I suppose I should have said something, however, in looking back over the incident I realize it was intended to teach me a lesson about judging people. I'm still working on judging people on my first few encounters with them.