Can you tell I monitor students during
lunch? It is fun for human observations.
Second Lunch Watering Hole
Bright, white sun reflecting
Off the blacktop play space
That is overrun by students
Each studying the other
Without saying so
They glow, bow, and imitate
Grown up gesture
Gauged in middle school vernacular
Grouping by the watering hole
After lunch ritual
The packs roaming
Some hogging the shallows
Staking out the best places
They are callow
Growling to strike fear
And no one come near
As they chat
Or hash out the latest spat
They look like the ones
That could eat you alive
But not really
The ones that strive
To stay hidden
Or doing what is forbidden quietly
Those are the ones to flee
They are the wolf pack
Waiting for the weak
This is who they seek
To grab them and drag them under
To drown in the muddy water
Where they plunder
The moral center
Of the innocent
To blacken or slacken
Their convictions
In shouting loud about restrictions
When they can
Or under breath
Like a grain of sand
Working its way
To irritate those that do obey
They try to flay the strays
These calves are the ones that seek the
sun
But have so little fun
As they don’t have friends
Well it depends,
If one or two choose
To look their way or move
Then they are in a group
That is searching for a hook
To latch onto
Another person that is more certain,
Who will lead them like they read in
books
As they are the ones that stay in the
shade
Away from the watering hole
They hide and wait till everyone trades
Glances to say “we’re done”
And go on
Bell rings, the alarm sounds,
And from the middle
One bird flies through in missile
flight solo
A clever rook, scattering them all
The last saunter, throwing one more
basketball
Taking one more long drink
Before they have to think
Under the placid sun of the watering
hole
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