Firsts

Firsts stick in memory. 
My first kiss, Cynthia Sims,
sitting on the piano bench
in the house of my upbringing
with all the adults in another room; 
the first mountain I climbed,
Granite mountain, with my lover and
about-to-be second wife, at the outset
of 28 years filled first with love and companionship, 
only much later with terror, anguish, scars, recriminations;
my first ever fish, caught at age 9, my first sex with Sharon at 18;
and, on September 1st, 2020, in the middle night,
within the bud of a soul-shattering year,
while the long-late Townes sings in my ear 'If you needed me'
at age almost 61, the first ever time someone, 
no, not just someone, my someone, 
lying in her bed a few miles away, me lying here in mine, 
said to me, in text on a dim phone screen,
I adore you.

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