I'm the mother of a middle school girl;
I'm a middle school girl
all over again - at the end
of the table
at the edge of the conversation.
The old cliques have crows feet now -
but they still arrange the bake sale tables and weekend
sleepovers as if these
were natural things. Just like junior high
I'm fidgety and dressed
for a funeral. My thoughts are somewhere else.
I've never been a puzzle piece
that fit agreeably into the bigger picture.
No matter how mindfully NOW
I berate myself to be,
everywhere I look I still see
my smaller shadow.
For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads