NANCY MCGUIRE
ALONG RIDGE ROAD
McNamara Meetinghouse along the iron edge
of old Ridge Road. I took Nancy McGuire to a
dance there once, a very long time ago. She was
simple and sweet, and we kissed for an hour,
it seemed. The deadlights were flashing at the
end of the lane, where lovers, I think, kept
traipsing in and traipsing out. None of that
mattered to Nancy; she wouldn't budge an
inch. All that I learned, I learned in that
cinch - just wishing I knew more.
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