Brandon
and tonight
he’ll be done
with high school
no more bell ringing
No. 2 pencil breaking
A, B, C, D or E
all of the above
lockers slamming
soles squeaking
talking trash
and trucks
heavy on the pedal
music blaring
trying to get that girl’s
attention
good boy being bad
taming his curls with a cap
acting like he don’t care
Ruger knows better
and the puppy ain’t talking
that hot summer sun
sweat on the brow
working with his hands
enrolling at Southern Union
hoping welding does the trick
poof … he’s outta here
the young always wanna leave
fast as fall leaves
just so they can come back
different
and he will be different
it will never be as it is now
and it’s funny how
his whole life
he’ll be trying to get back
to this place … this feeling
no longer a little boy
not quite a man
but somewhere
in-between the trees
twigs in the dirt
branching out
limbs and leaves
a stick in the sand
becomes
only what it ever imagined
it could be
perhaps more …
shade for the weary
shelter for the sparrow
hooks for the spider to weave
leaves for the ladybug
a maze for the butterfly
bark for the squirrel to run up
and down
a cradle for the mother bird
a jungle gym for the little boy
with dirty feet
in need of a sturdy branch
for his sword
to slay the dragon
and save the maiden
so fair and true
TL