The frost on the grass
melts against my small tennis shoes,
feeling and hearing it crack beneath my weight.
We stand in front of the small apple tree
on North Platt River Drive.
My brother and sister are not with me,
but I know who is on the bus.
I step on the bus and head towards the back.
I do not sit with them here.
The awkwardness of my coat
makes the drive uncomfortable and droll.
The bus pulls in front of the school
and the kids file out,
the larger kids in the back causing ruckus
pushing past those waiting to enter the aisle.
I do not stand with them outside.
I always sit nearer the back,
and those nearer the front get out quickly.
We wait under the awning over the incline,
packed tighter than sardines
to avoid the run-off from the gutters.
Every kid begins to file in
through the double doors, shedding their gloves
and hats and shoving them into their pockets.
We enter the cafeteria to hear
the morning announcements and convocation.
I do not sit with them here.
The floor is wet with the leavings
of other people's shoes.
My pants cling to me
as I sit cross-legged on the floor.
The teachers begin to organize by classes
in columns of red-cheeked students,
to lead them all to their classrooms for the day.
I did not walk with them here.
The brown hues of the school
never seem to distract.
The temporary and moveable walls
never noticed.
We file into the classroom,
taking seats around the enormous semicircle
of straight tables, us in our bright plastic chairs,
reaching for the bins underneath to get our math books.
I do not sit with them here.
The hispanic kid to my left
always has a duck tail in his hair.
The black kid to my right never talks to me,
and I never know why.
The recess bell rings, and the teacher leads us,
single-file down the short remainder of hallway
to the double doors that led out to the big playground.
To my left was a young Polynesian girl
with chipmunk cheeks and strange teeth.
To my right was a young Chinese girl
with a kind smile that never left her face.
I walked with them here.
The day was gray, now clearing;
the frost is nearly gone.
Author notes
Brief bit of perspective: 1st grade, Williams Elementary, in Austin, TX
A contest entry
- Random- everything by Writing0Freedom.
850 points, ended September 28, 2008, 8 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Well?
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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lol, i though the person was a girl. XD
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Very nicely written, it was filled with great description and wonderful language. I did feel that maybe it just needed more of an ending. Certainly just opinion, but I felt I was in the midst of this great story and then it just trailed off without any type of conclusive statement. Over-all wonderful write
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Wow, I mean WOW!!!
Now this is the kind of work I’d love to wake up and read on and on without ever getting bored.
I mean… writing poetry is one thing but to master your writing skills, to provide the reader a vivid picture that captivates us into your world… am really out of words.
You’re a very skilled writer, adds so much perception, exquisiteness and ingenuity into your work.
You took me back to those school days and everything you said is somewhat a picture of what I’ve seen even though I live across the other side of the world. I really had a moment. It’s hard to explain, I got so emotional… I was always that kid in the corner, never understood. The only friends that did were the so called “weird” people. The, in other words- outcasts -whom to me, meant the world.
Prinda and Lia, I was wondering who they were up until the last stanza; the way you incorporated your work, reflecting your friends whom were not mentioned in the poem; however the whole poem, especially the last stanza was a metaphor for your friends. Now this, was very intelligent and right here you raised the bar for poets and writers.
And the bus description, you nailed that!
You speak for so many people out there; this is a poem that brings great pride in me and honor.
Thank you for a beautiful write, it’s an inspiration for me.
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Very nostalgic write. Thank you for entering the contest, good luck.
♥
whisper
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well, it is a nice write but what does it have to do with you and your friends and the memories you made together?
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Prinda and Lia are the two girls mentioned in the last stanza. They were great friends of mine. Take that as you wish.
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this was like a snapshot. just enough information to be interesting. very nice!
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Wow, I really liked this. The way you described the racial divides was really well done. I assume them was people of other groups. The description was vivid and brilliantly done. I had a clear picture in my head- and your vocabulary was very expansive. Who were Prinda and Lia though?
Thanks for entering!
Strong piece of writing. well done!
WritingFree -
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"them" in every stanza is actually referring to Prinda and Lia (the Polynesian and Chinese girls, respectively). Thank you very much for the read =)
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I like how you told a story in this. The description is good. Well done.
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