One Single Impression: Passing

I didn’t plan this to happen. I didn’t sit down to write specifically for OSI today. I usually write haiku for the prompts.  I am behind. Summer came to a crashing halt. It’s been a month since I last posted as I get all caught up in the beginning of school, the beginning of mentoring two library media specialists, and trying to ignore the already looming cloud of budget cuts for the 2011-2012 school year (ten-twenty million for my district)

My writing group established the practice of sending out our writing two weeks in advance for the monthly meeting.  We meet this Wednesday.  I will send my today.  My work in progress is written as a series of poems to tell the tale. So today I have been working on that project, not thinking of “passing”.

Yet, it appeared.  And while this is a draft and not polished I felt moved to share it on my blog today:

Recess Despair

Principal excuses me
parents and police officer remain
return to the classroom
Mrs. Gibson
are gone
Must be recess
So I go out the door to find my class
I notice a group of girls huddled together
They are laughing, passing something white back and forth
I hear their shrieking
Euthanize, what kind of word is that
Folded with care and love
See! She is his girlfriend
I told you. I told you so.
Bet that’s why she had to go to the principal’s office.
She was there that night
How stupid. 
I march over
To the pack of girls who are not my friends
I demand
Give me the poem back!
It’s not yours.
They laugh, pass it around again
Sweat gathers on my brow
for the third time today
I lunge for the note.
It rips
My heart rips apart
I hold only the bottom part of the torn page
Tears well up
I beg
Please give it back
The girls run away
I follow
despair fills me
as they hand the poem to the duty.
The recess bell rings
I run

But not to class.

The passing of a note. The passing of a childhood friend. Caught in a lie. Despair fills Darrah, my character.  For more on passing, please visit One Single Impression.

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6 Responses to One Single Impression: Passing

  1. annie says:

    It seems like the greatest sorrow and greatest joys can all be found in childhood – a training ground for managing the same as adults.

  2. Olivia says:

    childhood cruelty- I have suffered like hell.. very beautifully expressed.. 🙂

  3. Lisa Nowak says:

    When I was in 8th grade my supposedly-best-friend took my journal from our Language Arts teacher’s desk and read it out loud to a bunch of people in class. I know exactly how your protagonist feels.

  4. Childhood cruelty is so swift in its pain, and it can leave the deepest scars…

  5. SandyCarlson says:

    Ah, the cruelty young people inflict on each other. I think they haven’t been around long enough to understand the pain they cause, the depth of the injury. Your verse sure does take us there, though.

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