The ApologyPoetry — By Courtney Keen on December 2, 2012 at 5:00 am
He asked me how old I was
When my parents got divorced.
Riding my bicycle around the driveway,
I didn’t say what I was doing
When they called me inside to break the news.
In the foyer,
Or where I stood when they stooped down,
To tell me.
Or what I remember feeling.
He looked straight into my eyes.
When he said the words.
Waves rolling up to my throat,
I didn’t tell him about the startling emotion.
I had to suppress
In twenty-two years.
Or, that he was the first man
Or, how it changed me.