Poem for Sherrow (and reply)

September 15, 2017 § Leave a comment

I write this poem when I’m fifteen, playing Willie Baxter in Seventeen opposite celestial Sherrow DeVaughan, nineteen, in my first “grown-up” play. It’s spontaneous, mind to fingers on the keys, and (I know) screams to be revised (trite, redundant rhyme schemes, hackneyed images), but it shows where my head is.

I show her my poem and she writes one back for me, which leads to our first kiss and on to everything I know about true, honest love (but never past first base).

The story of the play (and Sherrow) is posted in Seventeen.

I keep both poems folded in my wallet for too many years until they’re barely legible and I put them in an envelope marked “The Poems for Sherrow in ’59,” file them in a bulging folder labeled “Poetry” in the cabinet beside my desk, to be retrieved and published here.Poem to SherrowSherrow's PoemSherrow's Poem typed


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