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The First Recess
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Standing away from the crowd,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>You hunker in lonesome sorrow
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>As the others frolic and dance.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Buried from the waist down in tears,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>The only friends around are the grasses of
imagination.
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Your knots of expression slip away
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>As leafing locks flutter to the ground.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Your branch like fingers
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Cover your sadness
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Until a singing sapling sprouts
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>From the earth below you.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Swaying within the cottonwoods,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Your leaves of gold turn into brown,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>But your worries have disappeared.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>You’ve found a new friend,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>One just like you,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Who has come from a life of depression
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>To brighten your day
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>And send your worries away.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Some friends may sprout strong,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>And some will wither away in the wind.
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>But the ones like you, who know who you really are,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Will stay by your side
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Until the harsh winters
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style='font-size:16.0pt'>Put you to a frosty funeral.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Even then, they will fall by your rotted remains
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>And mourn for you until next spring,
<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>When a new sprout will appear and be their friend.
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<span
style='font-size:16.0pt'>Tessa Porter
