Lonely and leaning just like this, against a tree. –Joan Baez

And so she stands there
Tough on the outside
In her khaki Wranglers and coordinating shirt and vest combo found in the giraffe section of garanimals at Sears and Roebucks

Back to school shopping, three pairs of couderoys, five tops, one pair of leather shoes, perhaps a coat, nah, never a new coat

Not with two older sisters who are best at breaking things in–
Breaking all sorts of things,
hearts, windows at school, promises to keep their little sister safe

from the nearly boys who come over to get high and fuck when their mother isn’t home, which is most of the time

She stands against the maple in the front yard, head cocked slightly, virginal hair swinging out from behind her back

That tree is barely big enough around to hold her. It’s roots not yet deep. This world isn’t big enough either.

She will harden as she grows fatter and fatter until in high school you can barely recognize her cheekbones, once so prominent.

She leans against the tree, lonely, as her father backs the station wagon onto the street and the Collie dog barks farewell.