A morning in August hides
behind yesterday’s frost.
You and I
play along with this secretive game
The stars gently kiss the horizon,
begging to stay and watch the sunrise
The aging pines sigh
even crippled they bump into the clouds
You and I,
like them we’ll grow taller.
You say you can outstand an oak tree,
but you’ll fall asleep anyway.
In the morning, the blue jay will wake us
the birds laughing at our childishness
You and I,
Together with the dirt and the sky,
the sun our only witness
we’ll make our vows to grow up.
You can see the grass dance but get nowhere
testing the unmatchable speed of the wind
You and I:
We can beat the bellows at their own game
and where the road ends, time will change us.
Sometimes at night,
the city lights twinkle on the horizon
birthing shadows of towering human foundation
forming strings of surreal beauty on itself.
The country tilts her head back
unashamed to wear nothing but the moonlight.
This is the golden heart of our land,
a gateway that needs not acquired tastes
You and I,
we know what living is like.
Only the chapped wooden buildings understand,
only the trees and rivers and fields and the sky;
Only you and I can call this home.
Angela Protzman is a ninth-grade
student at Maryville High School. |
