Two poems of change - moving on can be hard

Moments

By Adrienne Clark

6/25/2009
Written after returning to my high school after many friends the year below me graduated.

(To understand one stanza you need to know that I was the head librarian in Band Council.)

I walk amongst the ghosts of my past

I see myself,

The ghost of myself,

Still standing where I left myself

When I created a still frame of the

moment

In my mind.

The memories are so tangible

That I can almost see myself,

My instruments,

My band,

My boyfriends;

The places I walked,

Where I grew,

Three of my most formative years,

All here…

This was my life.

Now I am an outsider,

I feel it distinctly.

I am now a criminal to come on campus

During the hours I once lived here.

“Out the door,

You are no longer wanted.”

The foreignness swirls around me

And waters my eyes,

Whirls in my stomach,

Shudders in my lungs,

Pulls on my throat

And winds around my heart,

Constricting it ‘til I ache in the core of my chest.

The band room is the worst:

It swarms with phantoms,

So thick I can scarcely breathe.

Everything that was mine:

Cubbies, seats, instruments, friends, cuddles, dances, piggyback wrestling, glowsticks, posters, antics;

Moments.

The smell of music,

My folders,

My system,

My room,

My pride,

MY music…

My one legacy, the only ghost anyone can see,

save me.

I see the spots we stood;

Every hug,

Every kiss,

Frozen in time in that very spot.

I can see two highschoolers as I walk by,

Blind to all else,

Caught in an embrace,

a stolen moment

That is no longer mine,

To which I can never return.

I see myself,

The ghosts of myself,

The ghosts of my past,

frozen moments,

Ice statues in the wind,

That wind of change that swirls around me

And squeezes out my grief,

And spirits me away

To places greater and beyond.

But my traces remain,

Visible to few, perhaps only me,

But I am there.

Shimmering in the air,

my moments,

My art,

My passion,

My family,

My love,

My life.

Once you give a piece of your heart to someone,

You can never quite get it all back.

Once you give a piece of yourself to a place,

You can never quite take it all away.

Do I even want to?

Or should I leave them there,

My

moments.

Where I went nearly every day during morning break.

Mellophone cubby.

My favorite choreographed drum call, Speed²

Tenor sax choreography to Iron Man FTWWWW!!!!

Waves of Time

By Adrienne Clark

June 2002

Written just after I graduated from 6th grade (elementary school in my district).

O childhood!

How the time rushes by!

Like the ocean waves;

They fling themselves at children’s feet

Who dance and splash in the foamy surf,

Squealing in delight

as they chase each other ‘round and ‘round

in the fleeting, engrossing rush.

Then just as suddenly as it came,

It is gone,

Washing over their feet

And trickling between their toes.

And before they can chase after it,

A bigger wave crashes against their feet.

O childhood!

How the time rushes by.

My friends at Lockwood amused ourselves endlessly with building "The Pond" in various locations around the school. As for the cartoons....don't even bother trying to understand them, it only makes sense if you were there.  :P

Almost my entire Lockwood class at our reunion after we graduated.

I spent my last year of elementary school (6th grade) here at Shelton View.

Shelton View playground.