First Days – Koke

She’s not quite ready to let go.
She holds on tighter, squeezes.
And now she’s here– And now she’s there;
Caught between the present and the next.
The others play their little games,
They speak of someone named Simon,
And speak of all he has to say.
She raises her head– looks up into familiar eyes.
‘Go on,’ her mother smiles,
‘I’ll see you later.’

She’s not quite ready to let go.
She holds on tighter, squeezes.
And now she’s there– And now she’s here;
Caught between the present and the next.
Things are different this time.
Simon’s gone, and no one’s playing.
They stand in groups, apart from her.
She turns her head– meets familiar eyes.
‘Go on now,’ her mother says,
‘Wouldn’t want to be late.’

She’s not quite ready to let go.
But she’s lived this day before.
Though, instead of kindergarten games
Or high school cliques,
She’s met with something greater.
Some hands her a flyer:
‘Vote Simon for President of the SU’.
She turns her head– looks down into familiar eyes.
‘Go on,’ her mother urges,
‘It’s only kindergarten.’