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David Miller BoxesFootsteps echoing on the cold wood floors Voices bouncing off the walls, coming back like boomerangs Sadness for what will be lost Losing touch with the source Fear of the unknown Excitement and anticipation for what might be Hard to let go of what is sure, secure, certain. The moving truck pulls up to the house Friends come to say goodbye Tears, hugs, promises made to stay in touch Car is loaded onto the truck Jet engines roar and carry us to a new life. We know nothing of dry days, windswept mountains, prickly cactus, blazing neon We are of the ocean, the forest, the rain, historical roots We are trading the call of the seagull for the circling of the vulture Things seemed doomed from the start. Beautiful house, new school, new friends Our own pool, cool, wet, good times Yet, so much emptiness The Strip, excitement, lights, laughter, dinging, buffets Too much smoke And so much emptiness. Boxes everywhere Footsteps echoing on the cold ceramic tile floors Voices bouncing off the walls, coming back like boomerangs Sadness for what will be lost Returning to the source Returning to the known, the right Excitement and anticipation for what will be Never again to let go of what is sure, secure, certain. |
[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2010 EDITION]
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