Ready to Graduate!

Folks, I am graduating! My thesis defense for a YA novel is this Friday...yikes! (On same day as my daughter's dance recital practice from 5 PM to who know when...I don't know what's worse...the defense or the practice...)

If you are wondering why I haven't poste anything since April 4, now you know why. And mixed into all this business of finishing (well, at least 91%)my novel manuscript, I've had projects for other classe, grading for the classes I teach, bunch of kid stuff like dance class, jazz band, play performances, baseball, basketball, afterschool stuff, and my son's 13th birthday...but I'm beginning to see the light.

May 14! Here I come!

Which sounds like one of my poem chapters in my novel, AWAKE...

Here it is...

August 22, Gypsy Make-over
This is it! Senior year!
Year I won’t be afraid. Ten months, English IV, bit of physics,
lots of art, gov./eco. Then gone.


Texas State U, here I come! (if I get all my paperwork in gear…)


What do I want to leave behind? I’m not talking legacy.
Just more than yearbook Alex--gray, plain.


Some random guy asking hey you know that girl? Sits in corner
drawing on her jeans, paper?


Yeah, Alex. I think. Into her or what?


Nah, just every time I look up, she’s like looking at me.
Never smiles. Just keeps drawing. Weird.


Yeah, Alex. That’s her. Her friend Lena weird too, but hot.


Yeah, Alex. That’s me--let my hair drape over face, a blanket,
brown, straight, dull. Brown eyes like everybody else.
Prominent nose (to say it nicely)? Not a ten at all.


The unkissed girl. The unaware girl. The under-radar girl.
My whole high school experience, pretzel bag in vending machine.


No.
This is me.
Magic
carnival girl,
gypsy ribbon
hair whipping
under moon air,
spinning life
out of fire,
water,
from core
of earth.
Energy
shooting
through my limbs,
drawing
gypsy boy
to me.


But more. Drawing colors out of me, embracing
my mother in scarves, reconstructing space, time, energy, chaos
theory of the heart, with butterflies in my hair.
Daddy a faded photograph with all bad gone good.


All good
in memory
files labeled
“Once I Knew” or “Better Times.”


Ten more months till I toss my graduation cap up high.
Guess I need to start with gypsy boy and one good kiss.