Poem: "Autumn in the Wilderness"

I.

She is a little weird...okay, maybe a lot weird

sometimes the other kids say crazy while,
circling their finger around their ear.
She can be quiet or talk nonstop.
She gave me a seashell she had painted and
begs to sing songs for the class, which she does
on occasion...they listen politely, knowing this is
what she needs.

She is a reader and some days I barely know she's there.
Smart and mythological and medicated for her Tourette's;
irritated by her brothers and sisters, but rarely her classmates.

I often wonder what will become of her as the years go by.

II.

It begins when I see a look on a boy's face.
"Miss, she's freaking me out," he calls.
We are in the computer lab.
She is not working.  Instead she is trying to cut her
arm with her nails, crying that everyone calls her worthless.
I am heartbroken for her, as I send her to see someone
who can help her more than I can in a computer lab with
twenty-one other students.



III.

It's the day before spring break.  We have not done enough
poetry, so I decide today is the day.
I pull out George Ella Lyons' poem "Where I'm From."
We make lists.
We talk about memories of food and people and La Llorona,
the Hispanic legend.
Then we write, as Tanisha hands out birthday cupcakes and
I handle re-explanations of just what metaphor is.

Class is nearing an end.  We've been rushed again, so not
everyone has finished their poem.  But then Autumn proudly
comes up to me, poem in hand, excitedly spilling out its contents to me.
I take and read:

Wilderness
Wilderness;
a place of friends.
where you can fish
scallops from the river.
"Come on, Michelle.  We need

to listen to White Horse," Autumn says.
Wilderness;
a place of family
where you can hunt deer
in the woods.
"Come on! Come on!" Autumn calls from
a tree.
"Where is the radio?" Michelle calls.
"UP here!" Autumn calls again.
Wilderness;
a place of caring
where others fish the river
Michelle and Autumn listen to
White Horse every spring.
They have a cross as
their symbol.
They lost two dogs and
two family members.
"Mom, I keep my memories in
my soul," Autumn says.

She is glowing.  I am smiling.
"Make me a copy," I tell her, and she proudly does,
so I can share it here and remind myself....
she is going to be all right.
She has mythology and nature, poetry and music,
an essential worth no one can take away from her,
alive and living in her soul.

hms 3/17/14


*Students names changed