It was an abandoned train depot, eight
foot square, brick, and cozy inside,
the perfect place for two girls to share
a joint before setting out on our evening
adventure, meaning, boys. She was a blonde
coquette who dazzled many. I was a dark,
serious girl who loved too much.
As we passed the lit roach between us,
the light shone on the shiny, unspent pennies
of our eyes, cast shadows into the dim
corners of our hideaway. Away from boys
and mothers, two escaped princesses,
in a way station between childhood and its end,
we savored our freedom, our unstamped tickets,
our destinations unknown.
© Dana Robbins
After a long career as a lawyer, Dana Robbins obtained an MFA from the Stonecoast Writers Program of the University of Southern Maine. Her books of poetry, The Left Side of My Life and After the Parade, were published by Moon Pie Press of Westbrook, Maine, in 2015 and 2020, respectively. Her poetry has appeared or is forthcoming in many journals or anthologies, including DASH Literary Journal, Door Is A Jar Magazine, and Edison Literary Review.