Lyrah Jasmine Taft

Friends at the Park

By Lyrah Jasmine Taft
North Country Union High School, Grade 9

There was that day
In the park

The sun was hot.
My hands were cold
In the pockets of my
Giant blue jacket.

They climbed up and
Down the slide.

I watched.

Pitifully

From the wood chips
Below

By the sign that
Reminded me I needed
A mommy to play.

Or a daddy.

I had neither.

You saw that.

Your hand extended
To offer help on the stairs.
And your mommy smiled.
She asked my name
And took off my coat.

Death leaps
Over the flaws
And holds,
Possessing,
Twirling

A heart.

Death speaks
To the wind
Laughing and
Crying,
Clutching

My heart.

Cold as ice
And ice it is,
Cracked and blistered.

Every beat
A new whisper
To warm the hand of
Death.

Such tears.
They spill
And gather around the
Cloak of
Winter

The last demon I will encounter.

Which way
Am I meant to turn,
When heaven is
Locked and
My body is limp?

When I have
Forgotten to
Say my prayers?
Am I forgiven?

Will I cease
Existence?
What is my

Punishment?

Judgment day
They tell me.

I don't believe
in

Judgment day.

Because I don't
have secrets
From the wind.

The sun is my heart.

I bury my thoughts
In the grass.

I am already opened
And

Earth
Doesn't judge.