I was six or seven years old and taking swimming lessons at a community pool and when I was out of the pool standing in front of the swings, I felt a soft tap on my back.
I turned around and saw a cute, red-haired girl my age smiling at me.
I was too young for boy girl romantic feelings and the power of flirtations back then, but something in me besides my back was touched. I think it was a budding romantic heart.
Before any words were spoken, the red-haired girl’s mother took her hand and walked away with her while she was looking back at me smiling.
I never saw that red-haired girl again, but, curiously, I think about her now and then even as an old man.
I’ve often wondered what would have happened if I’d met her again when she and I were old enough to fall in love, and I feel that would have happened.
I wonder how her life turned out. Did she have a full and happy life? Is she still alive? What was her name? But, alas, I’ll never find out any of those things.
Sometimes in overly imaginative moments, I’ve wondered if I’ll see her again in the afterlife.
Maybe she’ll be there as a beautiful, red-haired woman and tap me softly on my back, and I’ll turn around and fall in love with her.
And for reasons unclear to me, I got a little teary-eyed writing this poem.
Bob Boyd