Dennis Herrell has been writing poetry for forty years during his adult life as teacher, outside sales person, and, lately, antique dealer. He is like every poet in the world – always in training, and painfully aware of it. Enter his world to read some poems he has had published.
At the Corner
We Talk Weather
You were a virgin
caught up in a backseat moment
of anxious attempts, and I
was being male there on the vinyl.
I was too much proving a one-sided equation,
and you were working on a puzzle called woman.
We accomplished the expected
and didn't lose our place among other matings.
Afterward, we were all reassuring and fulfilled,
but reading questions in the other's eyes.
I felt a declared but lost manhood,
all in that one quick moment.
About your moment, I never knew.
You turned quiet while adjusting your bra,
so intent upon etiquette of dress,
while I tended to matters with the car.
Now when meeting we talk about weather.
( 1/8/07 – Pearl)