The turquoise pool rose up to meet us,
its slide a silver afterthought down which
we plunged, screaming, into a mirage of bubbles.
We did not exist beyond the gaze of a boy.

Shaking water off our limbs, we lifted
up from ladder rungs across the fern-cool
lip of rim. Afternoon. Oiled and sated,
we sunbathed, rose and paraded the concrete,

danced to the low beat of “Duke of Earl”.
Past cherry colas, hot-dogs, Dreamsicles,
we came to the counter where bees staggered
into root beer cups and drowned. We gobbled

cotton candy torches, sweet as furtive kisses,
shared on benches beneath summer shadows.
Cherry. Elm. Sycamore. We spread our chenille
blankets across grass, pressed radios to our ears,

mouthing the old words, then loosened
thin bikini straps and rubbed baby oil with iodine
across sunburned shoulders, tossing a glance
through the chain link at an improbable world.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Geraldine Connolly's poem The Summer I Was Sixteen

3 Comments

  1. HW kid says:

    Not a single website has a poetry response for this i can copy and paste, looks like i have to do this myself 😉

  2. Shayenne says:

    I really enjoyed this poem and i can really relate to this.

  3. piperonstage says:

    this pome is about a 16-year-old-girl and her friend triing to live life to it’s best.

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