I wrote this poem at the end of my fall semester at Outdoor Academy. I left my home in Durham, NC (which I refer to as “old tobacco” in the poem) for the mountains of the Pisgah Forest. I joined 27 other students to form part of “Semester 51.” We had the amazing good fortune to live, work, learn and grow together for 16 weeks during the Covid pandemic.
I am Lucky by Maya
I am lucky
Letting go of the rough hands
Feeling the unfamiliarity engulf me
Before, unfamiliarity seemed dark, scary
I needed to escape the old tobacco
Escape the slow moving
Escape the masked passers
Escape this stranger who embodied me
I am lucky
Embrace pulls me by a string
Entangled in their arms
Oak paddles waved fear goodbye
Canoes soared through powerful waves of connection
Little ducks left marks in Pisgah’s waters
We quacked to one another’s presence
My people
I am lucky
Cabin 7 heard stories on the sunny October days
Bears lay bellies up listening to delicate words
We were allowed to feel each other
Twisting my fingers between theirs
Sun watched us roll on the fresh greens and browns
Chirping
Dancing to her warmth
Closer than 6 feet
I am lucky
Once the sun gave her goodbyes
Stars came waltzing
Pulling a blanket over the world
Softer than any other
We all watched the tango
I am lucky
Pisgah’s mountain tops could be seen from the big windows crying for light
Holding towering trees between long piano fingers
Hiding beneath the twisted rhodo
Familiarizing the simplest of things
I am lucky
Ghosts once lay under the bunks in late October
Now, snowflakes twirled on lace
Feeling winter
Stringed lights impaled the cries
When tears dropped, rolling slow
I was never alone
Unlike home
I was always alone
Even half awake
The squirrels always scratched
The thick breaths from unconscious souls always tapped the dark
I am lucky
Tight laces follow up Pisgah’s ridges
To campsites we would call home
For just a night
50 miles of observation
30 miles of discovery
10 miles of the Art Loeb
Digging deep into who this stranger was
I am lucky
Family follows close behind
Winter enters
Its presence is chilling
Tip toes crawl up the Wedigo
Morning breath
Morning walk
Morning watch
I am lucky
Oak showed me who I was
Green wood showed me what I could create
Maple held my quick feet in place
Slowing the world down
I am lucky
Food is provided, family style
Food from gardens
Food from labor
Food from the unknown
Food from the woman who placed those seeds in the soil
She dirtied her hands
She sweat
She waited
Waited for those small peppers to flourish
Soon they would escape soils cradle
Mother Earth would release them
Giving this woman her creation
Gifts
I am lucky
Bears lay on the untrimmed grass basking in autumns winds
Squirrels swing on a trapeze of trees
Crickets argue til’ the days get dim
Their home is just beyond these windows
Sit
Observe
I am lucky
Birch, maple and oak pull tight and whisper,
“You are welcome here. This is home”
I whisper back,
“You’re right, this is home”
Trees don’t accept the enemy
The killers
Thick hatchets
No goodbye
I am lucky
Goodbyes to these trees aren’t forever
They know I will return
Maybe not tomorrow
But when I feel it’s time
They know I’m no enemy
No hatchet
Just goodbye for now
I am lucky
Look under the shelves, on bunks, under tables
We are always there
Sharpie marks our presence
“Covid,” they called us
Braver than most
Entering back into these loose cloth masks
Leaving 51, returning to ‘23
I am lucky
16th Street held my wobble
Watts felt my runs
Home
We all carried home
Like hermits
You don’t know you have that shell ‘til you’re pushed into it
Spend a night in it
You’ll feel your shell walls
Hermit
I am lucky
Trees read us storybooks
Of the creatures that once roamed
Of the big hearts all of us pumped
And the rings of their trunks
I am lucky
3 months
Oak, maple and birch release their leaves
Fitting the seasons changes
Watching
Watching the 27 shufflers grow
Lift their heads
Slow their words
The trees slowed us all down
I am lucky
People look beyond
It didn’t matter which colors you wore
Who you admired from afar
What you wished on that shooting star, dancing across the sky
They always winked back
The figure dangling off the curve of the moon
Casting its wishes
I am lucky
51 listened
Listened to the noise echoing off of Pisgah’s many lakes
They listened to my stories
Felt my shoulders tense
They listened to words far from their vocabulary
I am lucky
28 heads down, eyes closed
Blind from each other for only a minute
Hands in hands
Blind from the dining room, holding smiles from the past
Look close
You’ll see 50 before
I am lucky
Oatmeal will remind us of home
Sponge in hand belting to songs from an unclaimed CD
Bringing us back to the whirring of the sanitizer
To the dining room’s warmth
Even with no heat
No flame dancing in the wood stove’s wake
Warmth is always there
Deep beneath the floorboards
From 25 years
I am lucky
Chirps woke us
Howls followed meals
Wolves howled to melodies
Beating hands on tables
Forming rhythm
I am lucky
Clothes rolled off the shelves
The bunk in the corner was uninhabited once again
We no longer lived in these woods
Fire stopped dancing
Country roads lulled away
Chasing the directions we now marched
Soon we would be gone
I am lucky
Though goodbye seems like a release
It’s actually just hello
I’m okay with goodbye
51 needs the world to see their new ways
New laces tying up old ratty shoes
I am lucky
Home is the shaky bunks and 6:50 rises
So is Watts Street
So are Pop’s Belgian waffles on the late church mornings
Waking up to Jack Johnson
Walking down to Pop’s twirling, flipping pancakes and whistling
3 simple steps, repeat
I am lucky
Every last drop of honey was used
Though there is no more
No weeks of waiting for another jar
This yellow liquid touched everyone’s tongues
We all tasted the memories
I am lucky
Unfamiliarity turned to community
Travelers turn to family
I know who I am
I no longer embody a stranger
I too can make dents in the old wooden table
I am lucky
Lucky to forever call OA home
December 2020