Clover

Teenage Girls

She was thinking about
Those lazy summer days
In the early seventies
When she’d hang out
With her best friends
In the neighborhood park
A gaggle of girls, sitting
Cross legged on the lawn
Laughing themselves silly
Under the sunny skies of Autumn
Fearless in the freedom
Of post WWII and Vietnam
Enjoying an easy life
Mostly untouched
By the tragedies of war
Their generation of girls
All wearing a uniform
Of pop tops, pedal pushers
And blue canvas sneakers
Idealistic teenagers
Feeling safe
In their little world
Predominantly consumed
With sweetly imagining
Getting lost in the kiss
Of their favourite boy
Their days full of dreaming
About love and peace
Searching for answers
In magic eight balls
And in the four-leafed clovers
They found in the grass
Picking wild white daisies
To pluck the petals off
And toss them away
One by one, reciting
“He loves me, he loves me not”
But rejecting the outcomes
They didn’t like, and then
Trying it all over again
Innocent girls confiding
Their secret crushes
And heartfelt wishes
With silly little rhymes
Kumbaya-ing
Their favourite songs
With unjaded optimism
Their happiness recalled
As a bittersweet memory
Of a long ago time
When life was still seen
Through the naive eyes
Of youthful inexperience
And with a purity of heart
That had us all believing
That falling madly in love
And forever
Was a completely plausible idea
And, that John Lennon’s paradigms
Would succeed in spreading peace
Throughout the world
Or, so we had all believed
When we were very young