At the intersection of what has always been and what might be,
A short teenage girl stretches tall, centre stage,
Her favourite blouse of red and white stripes complete with floppy bow
Distracts only slightly from her deliberately punc-tu-a-ted words,
Shared into a screechy mic atop the old oak podium.
Harsh amateur spotlight provides a momentary halo,
Trades her dark chestnut hair for light ashy blonde.
The change mimics her rehearsed act of defiance,
Trading natural, absolute shyness
For feigned, casual confidence.
A fledgling leader addressing her assembled, disheveled, constituents,
Before fifth bell dismisses classes for the day.
Vivid image. I could feel the moment. (y)
I think it was called Assembly in my school?
The “rehearsed act of defiance” sums up well the parameters school places upon the human spirit.
Nice description in the first line of calling the present an intersection.
Jo, you have a gift for capturing those moments in life that etch themselves into our brains, fodder for the rewind/replay urges that memory lures us into. I can feel her (your?) fear and awkwardness and determination, and I want to leap up on the stage to give her red and white striped shoulder a squeeze of encouragement for her gutsiness.
I love the contrasts throughout the poem: what’s always been/what might be; the short girl stretching tall; the dark hair turning ashy blond in the spotlight; shyness/feigned confidence. They add a wonderful sense of balance, and underline the “intersection” of the first line.