Leaving

• Laura De Feyter, Grade 12
• Poetry
• 2016

The horizon was a distant dream of gold and purple melodies
Interspersed with a glittering array of the ocean’s treasures
As we held tightly to suitcases packed with years of the knowledge
That one day, we would be
Leaving.
The crowds waving and smiling, and nodding their heads
Lips moving with promises we couldn’t hear 
Over the sound of the drums in our heads
Calling us to dance to the unfamiliar rhythm they played.
With the dust still clinging to feet, and to our nostrils
We scaled the steps with eyes full of the future
And tears for the past we had known,
But now had to forget. As a passing bird called,
“Laura de Feyter"
The applause fell like rain. We had boarded the boat. At last, we were
Graduates.