Community service.

More like detention.

In a quintessential Waldorf room.

Every Friday, odd jobs, pricked fingers, and felt.

Been gone since that treacherous canyon trip.

Nature girl was different now:

Soft, funny, kind, coquettish all at once;

her blue eyes caught in this permanent smile.

Every Friday,

Same story.

All through the year

Until the end.

I’d been walking with cataracts

And them yellow earphones

I could have sensed better.

I’ll sure miss you.

Wherever you are,

Whoever you’ve become.