Poem of the Week #4

I wrote this poem shortly after my mission, it was actually a very prolific time for me. I sometimes wrote three or four poems a day. Anyway, this one is about my wonderful/horrible early teen years where I had the desire/need to separate myself from/fit in with the kids around me. Ah, memories.

White-Hot Flame

I wore a white dress
when I was thirteen
and claimed the one sunny seat
in my Sunday school class.
My dress of morning light.
A white-hot flame
cannot be ignored.
A blinding flash,
not easy to avoid.
Not teacher,
nor classmates,
nor self
could miss my presence.
The age old cry
"A place in the sun,"
I well remember,
for I had one.

May 2002