It is August.

As we sit in my room,

The fan stirring humid air

We mourn the summer,

Longed for but swept away so soon.

It is September.

We lug our backpacks over shoulders

And brace for the impact

Of introduction assignments

And new names

And unfamiliar classrooms

And fresh perspectives.

It is October.

The leaves are falling away,

     Down

             Down

                      Down

                                And we are falling

                       Back

                 Into

        The

Routine.

It is November.

The trees are becoming bare

And the sounds of Sewickley

Mingle with our laughter

As we walk through the place we have welcomed

And made our own.

It is December.

We sit in the cafeteria

Conversation and laughter

Occupying the space where eating should be,

The sky swirling cerulean and powder flakes

Occupying the space where the warmth should be.

It is January.

A new year marks a new phase,

Stage crew

And drama club

And new friends

And lunches in the auditorium

And new relationships

And new jokes.

It is February.

              We walk to homeroom

                            Past the candy gram sales

                                        Past the orchestra room

                                                           Past our peers

                                        Past our lockers

                             Past each other

                                         And

                                         Into

                                         Another

                                         Day

Now it is March.

The sun is rising earlier

Our assignments are sloppier

Spring break seems too far away

But we are together

And together

And together

And together

And finally okay.