First Lunch at the New School

by The Hearth Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

Her old friends are four hundred miles away. At lunch she carries the tray past three tables of finished conversations. A girl moves her backpack. Not a grand rescue. Just enough bench. They compare apples, teachers, and the strange local word for a bread roll. That evening she tells home, I still miss everyone. Then, after a pause: I know one name.
62 words · 14 lines · Free Verse
moving awaychildnew schoolunderstatementimagerycontrastfree-verse

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