She's still sad
The little blue-eyed girl
with flaming red pigtails
I once knew
Now sporting silver hair
with an explosion of psychedelic colors
at her crown
Like the neon sixty lights
Electrified Green Acid Spill, Punky Bubblegum Pink,
Ice Skater Blue, Fireball
My eyes reflect astonishment
Tilting my head just so
I must have looked speechless
Why was I surprised!
She grins sheepishly
"You like?Pulpriot!
My hairdresser's so cool"
No doubt, exotic birds would chat with envy
The new trend, revamping and reliving
Freedom's child of the sixties
Except on the hair, not on Volkswagon buses,
not in baubles and beads,
or fishnet hose or crocheted vest
We're celebrating her birthday today
Seventy-one
Imagine!
No, we could never imagine
Imagine ourselves as our beloved grannies
or even our moms
We always thought of ourselves as just hip,
aging was not in our cerebral hemisphere
Soft bellies, creped skin, smaller lips,
age spots, marionette lines, sloped shoulders,
bent arthritic fingers
She forces a smile
Her deep creviced lines are more pronounced
Weary eye-red and moist
Had she been crying? Perhaps
She's always been sad
Like a dark brooding storm always following her
Moody and unpredictable
On the verge of a maelstrom of tears
I've known her since grade school
She was painfully shy, withdrawn
A loner
Caged by her inner demons
Whatever demons a six year old has
I was drawn to her
I wanted inside her world
to understand why her lips trembled
whenever a teacher would call upon her
Or why she would walk down the hall
with eyes fixated on the floor
Posture hunched when making her way to class
I could only imagine her family life,
for we weren't allowed to play
except at school
Away from parental eyes
She lived in a pristine neighborhood
Stately homes with beautifully lit porches
Shiny oldsmobiles parked on cobblestone driveways
Post modern streetlights which gave an ambient glow to wealth
We lived miles apart
Poverty painted my world
though I never assimilated the disparity
where social class was prevelent
Yes, right here
We met up again in high school
Freshman year where Janis Joplin ruled the airwaves
Cher's fashion was the latest crave
She still dressed as trendy and beautiful
I remember well
She sat in front of me
A flip bouffant hairdo to be envied
Mine was long, stringy, mousey, lifeless
She'd dab her perfume labeled Worth
each time the bell rang
I can still smell its redolence through time
but maturity has made her a
COCO DE MADAMOISELLE lady
We became fast friends
meeting in the middle
Track meets, tennis matches, gym class
Friday night dances at the YMCA
We stuck together like glue
Giddy
Highly pretentious with big dreams
For pretentiousness was all I had
to believe I was pretty like her
I loved her clothes
Specials from Federated Department Store
Mine were grandmama's original coutoure
from Singers thread and sew
She always managed to abscond with
a trinket or even a dress
Tucked away in her little basket purse
she sported on Friday nights
Rushing me into the ladies' room,
she'd dress me in fashion
Such was her generosity
This parental rebellious act made her happy
But drugs made her happier
Such a sinister discovery
A new found freedom and acceptance
Rebelling against the religious ferver
of her preacher dad
Little town parades made her sashay in the streets
Uninhibited, defiant
Throwing caution like beads in a celebration
It hid her sadness in a cloud of Mary Jane
Soon Mary Jane wasn't enough
to soothe the savage beast
and she left our friendship for a new high
So much could be said today
So much to celebrate
Forty years of clean and sober
Two beautiful daughters reunited
Loving their mother regardless
Just as I loved her through sixty years
of true friendship
A sofa to crash on
A bus ticket home
An escort to rehab
A loving hand to wipe away
a fallen tear of hurt and anguish
She lights a cigarette
Inhales deeply
We light the candles
Happy Birthday- off key always
Ramona wants to play
The Beatles' Eleanor Rigby
Somber, melancholy, nostalgic
She croons
"All the lonely people
Where do they all come from?
Where do they all come from?"
Another long slow drag
She sighs
She cries
But not from overwherlming joy
She's still sad
