Memories From My 14th Year · Sherry Ross

for Linda

Saturday mornings,
lean and hungry
without breakfast
we met and
traveled by foot,
both of us in boots
with scarves hung
around our necks like
temple prayer shawls.
Weary by noon
we gave in to
eat hamburgers at
Homemade’s Luncheonette,
ashamed at our
indulgence.
I ordered my first
cup of coffee with
you and felt power
in saying, “A hamburger and
a cup of coffee, please.”
We knew cemeteries and
sometimes sat on
park swings to
rest our feet,
laughing uncontrollably
to overwhelm
what we felt
even when it
hurt.
We walked and walked,
fanatics on a pilgrimage
looking for a shrine,
any shrine,
to satisfy our restless
longing.