Student Publishing Program ::

Grace Cooper

In A Pickle

I awaken
In this water, as sweet as
A fond hello
But sour, like there is malice
Behind the greeting

I think I’ve been here for a while
There are others
They seem to be idle, with blank expressions
That could mean anything

Maybe I appear to them,
As they do to me.
Maybe they’re seeking
The light that has been blocked
For so long.
Maybe they don’t know how long
They’ve been here, like lonely, sad
Leftovers.
Maybe they’re seeking to be lifted
From this suspended animation.

Suddenly there is light
Blinding me, for just an instant
I feel arms around me.
I’m being Lifted.

I look back at the others, behind me now
And I suddenly see.
Now I understand
If only I could let them know!
Such a pity.

If only
We hadn’t been born,
As pickles

[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2013 EDITION]