Poem: The Parking Lot

I lug my schoolbag across the parking lot,

Where giant oak trees tower over the quiet cars and give off dappling shadows

And the grass has grown waist-high and wild

And barbed plants poke through the soil

And there’s that nice green smell of things growing

And little seedlings have pushed themselves through the old gray bricks

And pigeons fly overhead like dark shadows

And a blackbird bathes himself in a rain-water filled rut in the street

And little brown songbirds give off bright happy chirps

And I noticed a silver, long-tailed species in some bushes that are rare in these parts, but sing beautifully

And pines and trees swirl in the air.

Then I realize I will miss walking home from school,

Ever since I decided to go to a different high school in the urban city.