CayCay Godwin Poet Other

That Pause Between Summer and Autumn

School was out, setting her free in summer -
free to tell friends bye, be lonely and cry.
Tears would spill for a best friend of one year
who she had learned would in time forget her.
Most teens knew same place and faces through school.
Military brats do not live that truth.

Summer would decide her joy for school's start.
Parents choose suburbs, not an army base,
to be this year's school and friends starting place.
She hoped the house was in a neighborhood
with teens her same age to share summer skies,
then fall, winter and spring for her next page.

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Suzanne Delaney August 22, 2025 at 6:44 AM Seasons can mark memories and evoke those recalled feeling with such vividness. Really enjoyed the sweet nostalgic mood of your poem.

Gary Radice August 16, 2025 at 1:01 PM Angst, worry, sadness, loss and hope. You describe the situation of a younger (you?) moving school / neighbourhood, and not having control of the situation so well Cay Cay. We are all shaped by such emotional experiences. I really enjoyed the read. Cheers - Gary

Anne Winter August 13, 2025 at 7:26 PM Dear CayCay, your poem is a sweet and tender portrayal of a child's resilience and hope. You've captured the bittersweet emotions of changing schools and friendships with such sensitivity and understanding. Brilliantly written poetry! CayCay Godwin August 13, 2025 at 11:31 PM Thank you, sweet Anne. The reason it shows sensitivity and understanding is because it is autobiographical. It was hard but I wouldn't be who I am if not for those years. Love your comments, I always do. Thank you and poetry hugs ... CayCay

Paige Hind August 13, 2025 at 2:05 PM Very pretty! Like the last line, especially..."share summer skies, then fall, winter and spring for her next page." CayCay Godwin August 13, 2025 at 11:31 PM Hey, Paige! Thanks for visiting and commenting, so you're so good to everyone. Poetry hugs ... CayCay

Andrea Dietrich August 12, 2025 at 5:47 PM Oh this is a lovely idea, Caycay. Your own history in poetic style

Bill Baker August 12, 2025 at 3:19 PM Your poem brought back the many moves and changing schools, CayCay. Well written my friend. I was nor an military brat, but family had a gypsy vibe going for sure ... 6th grade / 3 states / 3 school / 4 homes 7th&8th / 2 states / 3 schools/ 3 homes 9th-12th / 1 state / 5 schools/ 5 homes 7 grades / 6 states / 11 schools, 12 different homes. You get the picture. Good thing I was young. LOL I survived. Hugs, Bill Bill Baker August 26, 2025 at 7:41 PM Wouldn't change a thing. It is and was what it was meant to be. Our free will starts with how we respond to what happens in our lives. Thanks for understanding. Bill CayCay Godwin August 13, 2025 at 11:33 PM Man, oh, man, compared to your family, mine was motionless. Bless your entire growing up, gypsy heart. If your feeling & thoughts ultimately landed where mine did, you wouldn't change a thing that made you who you became. Poetry hugs ... CayCay

Valsa George August 11, 2025 at 10:02 PM Children of army personnel will have to change school every year as the parents move from one army base to the other. It is sad to bid goodbye to the friends of one year and stay all alone during the vacation until another school year starts and wait with anxiety what the next school will offer. You have approached the subject from a totally different perspective. All the Best, Cay Cay. CayCay Godwin August 11, 2025 at 10:33 PM Yes, Valsa, from the perspective I've lived. I've written so many poems about the seasons that nothing new came to me - and then it did. Contest-wise, I'm taking a chance because it's probably not what she wants but I was glad I'd penned it. To me, it's a spiller-keeper! Poetry hugs ... CayCay

sara Etgen-Baker August 11, 2025 at 5:09 PM well done entry for the contest...entertwining the gypsy life of a miltary kid (disappointments and all) with the season between summer and fall. Outstanding...best wishes with the contest, hugs, Sara CayCay Godwin August 11, 2025 at 8:51 PM That's me, a military kid aka brat. Many summers meant changing my life and I didn't care until I did, the move after 9th grade. Thanks for reading, I'm not sure it's what she's looking for, but it is where my muse took my pen. Poetry hugs ... CayCay