San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly

Thelma T. Reyna

School Bell

The school-child, all pudgy knees
and dimpled hands, holds close communion
with a polished beetle in the grass.

His knapsack lists on the emerald sea of dew.
Pillow fingers poke the creature, its
itinerary graver concern to the
chrysalis scholar than school is.

The child’s laughter tinkles in the corner of
the yard, while children scurry off like lemmings at
the ringing of the bell. Alone, entranced, the solitary
child and iridescent bug meet and confer, enwrapped
in one another’s charms,
so full of promised evolution,
so small and at the mercy of the world,
compatriots oblivious to
books and clocks and all that bind.