Field Trip

Too dark for daytime activities yet,
Cuddle alone in bed and read through scads

Of poems by other people, other years.
You’re always looking for something, afraid

You’ll find it common or nonexistent.
Common, and you’re like everyone, even

If they don’t know it, even if they don’t
Admit you as one of their common club.

Nonexistent, and you feel like that kid
At the lake on the day of the field trip

When everyone’s on the buddy system,
And you burst through the water, swimming hard,

Swimming with purpose, proud of your swimming,
Deeper in the water than anyone,

Only to realize that you’re alone.
You’re odd kid out. You don’t have a buddy.

Nobody swims like you. They’re all playing
Where the fun is the social confusion,

Belonging, politics, comparison.
You trundle around the edge of the lake,

Watching them as it dawns on you, swimming
Is common, real bonding nonexistent.