Twice a year, I take part in a 'Literary Magazine for the Stage' called The Art Garden. The editor/MC for the event sends out a theme to selected writers, who create their pieces independently, then gather on the specified night to read their work before an audience in a small theater. And each evening is really a mix -- poems. stories, essays, original songs. and, occasionally, short skits. It's kind of neat, because only the editior knows exactly what's going to be read each evening, so it's almost as big a surprise to the participating writers as it is to paying audience members.

The Spring "edition" of the Art Garden is this coming Saturday, and the theme is "Sports." This is the poem I wrote for it:

GYM CLASS BUILDS A CHILD'S CHARACTER

She sits on the sidelines,
waiting for the time to pass.
The voices of her classmates rise and rise,
bouncing up to the plastered ceiling,
echoing and overlapping until words are lost,
and falling down around her in a drone
as heavy as an ocean wave.

Cupping her hands over her ears,
like a hornplayer with a mute,
she teaches herself the art of modulation,
giving form to the formless,
and playing melodies only she can hear.

She watches the motes of dust swirl in the sunlight,
studies the geometry of the bleachers,
and wonders why, of all the colors in the world,
some grownup chose puce to paint the walls.

The bell rings at the end of the period,
and while the others go to the lockerroom to change,
she is escorted back to the classroom,
And while she waits, makes secret plans
of how she will color the world,
once she gets the chance.

--

The next Art Garden will be the last Saturday in November, and unless something changes, the theme will be "Snow"... I expect that to be an easier topic for me to write about.