August Shakeup (It’s a Crazy Ride Between Centered and September)

by Christina Hubbard.

I swear. There’s an earthquake

Each year come August.

Here’s Summer, mosying along,

Cannon-balling into the pool,

Climbing trees,

Riding her bike.

Chlorine-soaked strands

Stream behind.


Then the tectonic plate of school,

(With some ungodly fury of busy and hurry)

Drills its gargantuan nose right under

The ground upon

Which she stands.


Wheel veers.


It’s not her fault. Or yours.

Or mine.

She always sees it coming.

Buckle your seatbelt, sister.

We can’t escape it.

Prepare, as we do.


A bone-throttling jolt.

Then the split.


A little shaken, a whole lot stirred.

She pushes herself up.

Frame bent, hair disheveled.


Close your eyes, breath deep.

Look up at stars.

Read aloud.

Walk. A.



Embrace routine’s help.

Loathe anxious thoughts.

Change it up.

Spot life.



She picks up the bike.


Welcome the fall.

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August 31, 2018