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Warm Summer Teenage Nights

It’s like this

I ease my bedroom door open

The air conditioner hums as I step into the still hallway

Through the darkness, I reach for the railing

And tread down the carpeted stairs

Skip the third

And the fifth

Lean to the right

At the back door

The house holds its breath as I pull on the knob and step outside

Crickets sing as my feet meet the smooth slate, still warm from the day

I tiptoe

Until I reach the neighbor’s lawn

Dew splatters my ankles as I burst into a run

Down the street

To the next

And the next

Pebbles dig into my soles

But I keep running

Heart pumping

Flesh tingling

Giggles rising

Headlights beam through trees

I duck


Catch my breath

And start again

Racing through the warm summer night

To get to you


While writing my memoir, I'm digging through old blogs and files and asking friends all sorts of weird questions like, "What were we doing in 2010?"

A wonderful benefit of this process is discovering things I forgot I'd written, like this poem about the thrill and anticipation of sneaking out of the house as a teenager to meet my crush.

The nostalgia got to me, so I thought I'd share.

What do you remember most about warm summer nights when you were a teenager?

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Sitting in folding lawn chairs under the big pine tree in my backyard, watching my crush smoke his Marlboro reds, swatting mosquitoes, then picking wild blackberries. Our fingers sticky and dark from the juice. Safe in the moment, in our secret place.

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Wow. That's really beautiful. ❤️

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