Dec 2013
for 12A13*
And so we arrive, across the woods
of adolescence, at adulthood.
Muddy-shoed. Wounds freshly cut
from the incipient grassy parts.
Blood meeting the new mud,
like skin testing the water's touch:
their hairs standing like Olympic swimmers,
bent with the posture of delight and terror.
And so we arrive, across the woods
of adolescence, at adulthood.
Muddy-shoed. Wounds freshly cut
from the incipient grassy parts.
Blood meeting the new mud,
like skin testing the water's touch:
their hairs standing like Olympic swimmers,
bent with the posture of delight and terror.
For 12A13, my beloved class. We're at anchor point, ready to launch into the next phase of our lives.
