When I Was Sixteen

A Bittersweet Poem About the Past

That summer in the warmest heat of the state,
where the hills roll with sunburnt grass and a few speckled bushes.
I remember the pools that glistened in the day,
a blue so clear it was as if we were swimming in the topaz sky.
Hot cement burned the soles of my delicate feet, and quick steps to the pool avoided the sting of pain.
I wore a blue dress over my bikini that swayed…