School starts for Jonah, too.
|An eye-like impression on Boo’s birch bark
Keeps innocent watch where he sleeps
or sits alone.
Summer is closed.
School begins, winds blow & bend. Boo attends.
There are no photographs to share. People ask us nothing.
He would be starting grade six but for this:
Branching cells inside, neuron dances gone awry.
Whipping leaves that lash & cut, pull & fall…
For days now, yet, the birch of him has stood:
An undisturbed instability;
his mood impermanent as paper
(covers rock, loses to the scissors)
His mood impermanent as paper.