snow day!
Observe:
It’s snowing to the rhythm of love songs,
To “I love you” and other such things.
The girls I call friends are shouting their merry,
But I worry as snow angels sing.
Consider:
I miss the feeling of being important:
Of self-assured writing on desks,
Of hearing my praises sung by the choir,
Of knowing that I’ll pass the test.
Instead:
I’m set anxious and shaking at midnight,
Unsure of my place in all this.
The wind whips my hair, and the final note strikes.
It’s snowing. I should call it bliss.
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