October 2017

Angry labored breath All I can hear Angry labored breath I don’t remember what I’m angry about Something Doesn’t matter… I turn back to my math book One problem left I can’t think, My mind Crowded by a radiating heat, Like lava ready to explode into the air I need clarity I stand from my recumbent position Dad asks me something about where I am going I barely hear him And don’t answer I rush through the front door Rough concrete hits my feet, Shocking me back to reality I hit the ground running, running It feels like a few miles It is only a few feet The spiky grass of the front lawn Grabs at my feet Tripping over the exposed roots, closer, closer to my beloved tree, My clarity I grab the bark and lift up, My limbs flying over practiced handholds and footholds Climbing higher Higher Not registering the rough, sandpapery bark Scratching I finally reach the branch where I sit Dream I let out my breath Not realizing I had held it Scalding hot tears hesitate At the edge of my eyes… Unsure of what to do A stinging sensation I stare down at my hands, Red and scratched I close my eyes Lean against another branch The anger leaves me Tears trickle down my face Cooling down the red sweaty mess My face has become My crowded head clears Leaving a glowing radiance of clarity For a moment there is nothing, but the brilliance of silence Shared by the tree and the wind Christiana Joiner, 11Kihei, HI