Twenty-two

Today in class we were given half an hour to write a poem putting to practice some of the things we learned from our reading.  The chapter assigned to us was about listing and repetition, so I tried to catalog and repeat as much as possible.  One of the poems in our textbook was entitled "Nineteen" and talked about a certain pivotal moment when the poet was nineteen years old.  I wrote about an experience that occurred when I was twenty-two years old, hence the title "Twenty-two."  I was hesitant at first, and I'm not sure if this is really what my professor was looking for, but I personally enjoy the poem that was the result.

Twenty-two

Jack Garcia 

I’m twenty-two years old
and the leaves are changing
as I walk from BYU down Bulldog,
cutting through parking lots to get
to my apartment:  The Branbury.

I stomp on leaves, crushing
red and yellow and orange
up one floor,
up one more
and then another to my door.

I sit on my unmade bed
and look out my balcony door
at the changing, falling leaves.
I’m aware now that I’m changing too,
but am I falling?

I am twenty-two years old
and I search through the contact list
on my phone.  I see many names:
the girl I should love, the boy I do love
and my mother’s.

“I am changing, mother,” I confess,
“like a leaf.  But I wouldn’t say I’m falling.”