by Kevin Corbett

I never crammed my guts with expectation,
But wrote my letter coldly, without hope,
Knowing the story’s likely culmination
Before I even sealed the envelope.
But this is just a retrospective posture
Of stoicism that I lacked, and lack.
In truth, I crystal-gazed her every gesture
For looks portending she would like me back.
Like Roman poets chanting in Greek meters,
A boy of barely seventeen in love
Can’t help it if his reason starts and teeters,
Possessed by forces he’s unconscious of,
Forgetting basic probability,
So stupid, so unready. He was me.

Kevin Corbett was raised in various cities throughout Michigan, and graduated from Grand Valley State University in Allendale, MI with a degree in English Secondary Education. He is currently working as a substitute teacher in northwest Ohio. He has a blog about writing and culture at The Socrates of Snails.
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Retrospective image

Pat Jones
Published October 3 2010