rayanne
rayanne
brings her colored pencils
up to the info desk
to be sharpened
one by one
this goes on all afternoon
rayanne
is seventeen
and what the other kids call slow
i didn’t realize this
when i first met her
i made rayanne cry
because she’d lost six library cards
and wanted another
i yelled at rayanne
and told her that she was irresponsible
i made her cry
and it made me feel good
because i was tired of irresponsible kids
losing fucking library cards
until i really looked
and saw all of the dried saliva
at the corners of her mouth
the food stains everywhere
the mismatched clothing
than i stopped yelling at rayanne
and said to myself
oh
shit
and what did i care
about lost library cards anyway?
now i spend my afternoons
in a cold, hard penance
sharpening colored pencils for her
i sharpen the reds, the yellows
the aqua blues
i hold the pointed ends
up to the light
until rayanne smiles
and gives me the thumbs up
before going back to her art
a while back
rayanne gave me a picture
that she drew
two kids holding hands in a field
with big rainbows behind them
it looked like shit
but i smiled and took it anyway
the picture hangs on the wall
in my office
next to work schedules
and a print of starry night
looking down at me
almost smiling
always daring me
to try and be
more kind.
John Grochalski is the author of five poetry collections, three novels, and the novella Wolves of Berlin Play Amateur Night at the Flute and Fiddle Pub (Alien Buddha Press 2024). He currently lives in Brooklyn, New York.
