Exposed

When I was fourteen on a band trip to West Palm Beach

We had a free afternoon to amuse ourselves

And I went with a group, mostly boys, on a yawl

Run by this couple from Maine, who came down

And took tourists out to fish in the deep water.

It astounds me yet how they penetrated my

Perfect disguise, my tight robe of obscurity.

I looked "so much" they said like

Their good friend at home; they could

Hardly believe their Northern eyes,

Smiling at one another as if it were a

Wonderful thing, a gift they presented

To my damp identity, forced to walk the plank.

Their smiles of approval were like a medal

I could wear inside my band uniform:

Couldn't they see I was not "cute"

Or the least bit popular with boys,

These friendly Yanks who squeezed my lumpish

Southern self and left their fingerprints.

[Undated poem by Virginia McKinnon Mann. This one really resonated with me. Photo from the San Diego Air & Space Museum Archives.]