The best poem I have ever written. It earned me my first ‘A’ at Cal-Berkeley.
My Favorite Shirt
There is no such thing
as a too large T-shirt.
My bully brother pushed it off on me
for my eighth birthday.
A cruel joke to him, it hung down to my knees.
I wished it was longer.
And when the wind blew
it flopped and trailed behind me
like a little sister.
I imagined I was a kite,
playing tag with the clouds.
I balled it into a pillow
when the heavy August heat
talked me into napping
under the maple tree.
It dried me off as I scurried
from the keepers of the golf course pond,
range balls stuffed in my pockets.
It caught the ice creams and root beers
that jumped out of my hand
when Chris tickled me
or Jenny smiled my way.
I took it to show-and-tell
when school left the summer behind.
Miss Akins was not impressed,
even though she wore the same skirt
for three straight weeks.
When winter came
I hid it away from the attic-bound clothes.
It absorbed the icicle sweat
under five layers of snow gear.
I wore it to the third grade Valentine dance,
along with brother’s leather shoes and dad’s Aqua Velva.
Jenny splashed it with punch
when I touched he chest.
By the time June closed the schools again
it was a shred of my past friend.
I carried it in my back pocket
that whole summer.
