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)
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I think it was called Assembly in my school?
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The “rehearsed act of defiance” sums up well the parameters school places upon the human spirit.
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Nice description in the first line of calling the present an intersection.
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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.
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