Hurriedly

Here I am,
clipping along past glass windows
over an underground library.
My campus grounds--
I have taken them for granted.
These grounds are owned by a church,
and I walk fastpaced over them,
as if barely touching them,
trying to avoid the ground I've
known so long.
Children half my age scurry past
me booming voices and laughter
across concrete walkways.

I think of how I am here,
why and how.
Amazingly,
I have a family,
and I brought the whole of them here with me,
uprooted and towed along behind me,
silent, acquiescent.

Now I walk to a
graduate school application meeting
(which is nondenominational).
It's shortsleeves weather
in November
and it still hasn't snowed.