The Sexual Revolution by Stephen Dunn

In that time of great freedom to touch
  and get touched,
we  lived on the prairie amid polite

moral certainty.  The sensate world seemed
  elsewhere, and was.
On our color television the president's body

admitted he was lying.  There was marching
  in the suddenly charged streets,
and what a girl in headband and miniskirt

called communication.  A faraway friend wrote
  to say the erotic life
was the only life.  Get with it, he said.

But many must have been slow-witted
  during The Age of Enlightenment,
led artless lives during The Golden Age.

We watched the revolution on the evening news.
  It was 1972
when the sixties reached all the way

to where we were.  The air became alive
  with incense and license.
The stores sold permission and I bought

and my wife bought until we were left
  with almost nothing.
Even the prairie itself changed;

people began to call it the Land, and once again
  it was impossibly green
and stretched endlessly ahead of us.

Dream Race

Stretched, loose, focused.
Tied laces
My heart races
Imagining my paces
Seeing eager faces
Look on as I take my mark.
One jump to relax,
Another to feel the track
Beneath my flats.
Hands out in front
Squatting to begin the run
I’m in the blocks.
Touching the ground
Arched, waiting for the sound.
Blinders set
Deep breath in, out,
I feel the hush of the crowd.
Breathe in,
GUN!
I’m off, as graceful as the Gazelle
I need to maintain distance
Can’t get drowned in the race.
One two one two
Beating flats hit the dirt
One two one two one two
I’m closing in, closer closer
Turn one, neck and neck
First straight away is a battle for place
I pull ahead, One runner gone.
I push harder, Two runners gone.
Breathing gets heavy
Taste of cotton discourages me, but still I push.
I’m at practice
It’s all the same
Lift my knees, Arch my back,
keep my arms low and dig,
Push Push Push.
Left right left right
Breaths are shorter paces quicken
Left right left right left right
My wings are spread as I fly into the next turn
The straight gets shorter, turns come faster
Three laps gone
Defeat would be disaster.
A final turn
Home’s in sight
I dig for one last push
Deep breath, in out,
In out in out
Counting my paces
Shortening the spaces
Not much further now.
In out in out
Left right left right
I’m so close yet so far away.
One runner on my left,
Another on my right
One trots ahead in my line of sight.
I need this
I want it more
I can catch them if I work
I dig, I dig, and I lean
Finish line.
I’m tipped.
No tape on my chest.
Second place
Better than the rest.
First Dream Race
A Sterling Victory.

Family's Jewelry

Love’s Expression
Once hanging from my wrist
A family’s love.
Wearing it
I carried generations
Generations of love
Engraved in pure silver.
The sincerity of divinity,
A constant reminder:
Love as my elders would love.