seeds

Emmy S. 

Seeds
The number grows each year
Tiny, small, miniscule,
Some cracked around the edges,
others golden
With their smiles, all were chosen
But even the shiniest wasn’t yet dug

They enter the gym shyly, not
Knowing what to expect
Feet too slow, arms too fast – miss
It’s a wonder the floor lays un-
wrecked

But on the other side,
Experienced spring high
Untouched by their web of ropes

Tall and skilled,
Their branches swoop low
Pulling the seeds up
Lifting them to a new height
saying, “you go”

And the seeds have yet to go
With each bounce, surrounding
themselves with the promising moist
dirt
Double under, triple, quad, their
Interest sprouts quickly
As does the Bulldog shirts

With each bounce
An A in the grades
With each bounce
A relationship made
With each bounce
I know the seeds grow trunks and
Leaves and they reach the clouds like
a rocket lifts, 3-2-1
With each bounce
I can see the trees, untouched by
Autumn, they are fully grown now,
helping other seeds
With each bounce
A forest is made