San Tropez

           for my stepfather, an identical twin

 

I think of you

dreaming in the womb,

the same intelligence

between you and your twin:

talking across the waves

of amniotic fluid

so content, I imagine,

to be in the same room.

 

50 years later

at the family campout

you shadow

each other, Uncle Guy

the clear leader, taller;

he must have beat you out

for some manna from Mama.

 

The sun sets over Lake Sara,

the family campout dance begins,

you play it cool in the August heat,

until Guy plays

“San Tropez.” Not really

a dance song, nor typical

in any way,

but a B side about a

lonely lover in paradise.

 

You two find each other

like an old married couple

on the concrete dance floor—

plastic disco ball whirring

on the corner of a card table.

 

It’s a waltz, almost,

and a gallop, hand-in-hand;

(the first hand you ever held)

and your forearms pressed

together to make one arm.

 

—Angela Elles  (Jefferson County)

Angela Elles is a resident of Madison. A mom, wife, teacher, and student, Angela teaches at Ivy Tech Community College and is pursuing an MFA in poetry at Spalding University.

Indiana Humanities is posting a poem a day from Indiana poets in celebration of National Poetry Month.