Passover

Passover

I’ve been passed over.
Thank God, the past is over.
I’m on the verge of freedom.
Oh, but I remember now.
We had our first kiss on Passover.
And this year, after years of rote racing of the same story,
We ate a simple meal, read poetry,
And then I read you mine,
And you were moved.
And I remembered,
We had our first kiss on Passover.
And you kicked me out,
But that didn’t stop us.
Here we are, 13 years,
And still kissing, thank God, on Passover.

This poem was published as a part of Look Ma! No Hands! If you dig it, please support the author, and grab a copy!

D.L. Lang
D.L. Lang
D.L. Lang of Vallejo, CA is the author of nine poetry collections, including 2016's Poet Loiterer which Kirkus Reviews described as containing "Free-spirited ideals couched in fairly infectious rhymes." She enjoys performing her poems at open mics and entering them in county fairs.