Forget Me Not Read Online Free Page A

that
    what happened afterward
    was all part of her plan.

THE SPARROW AND THE HAWK
    Thinking about predators and prey
    reminds me of the day
    the hawk landed by the hedge
    near our front door.
    I was heading out to take
    a walk, but I stopped
    and watched
    the strong neck,
    russet plumes,
    deep brown eyes, and strut
    of the predatory bird.
    Saw feathers lying
    on the ground.
    Feared it might be hurt.
    Heard rustling.
    Saw one eye
    of a small
    sparrow
    as it peered
    out from the
    shadows.
    Now I know
    just how it feels
    to be the sparrow
    in the bush.

SIXTH PERIOD
    and security is sweeping the halls.
    The men in red T-shirts are out busting
    balls. Telling the stragglers to get to their
    classes. Making sure wanderers have
    signed teacher passes. The bathrooms are
    locked so you can’t even pee till you
    go to the office and ask for a key. If left
    unattended, the restroom’s the place where
    kids go to get stoned, and at least in one case,
    a child was conceived in a second-floor stall,
    and twice a light fixture was used in a brawl.
    There’s ranking in, dealing, and tatting. Huffing
    of Axe, puking, and cutting. Foul things
    happen on the bathroom floor. Crap! A red
    shirt’s walking up to the door. I look to the
    left and I look to the right. Nothing but tile
    and no place to hide. So I sit very still, just sit
    there and stare. And he walks right on by like
    I’m
    not
    even
    there.

ONE OF THE SPECIAL ED TEACHERS
    Walks onto the H Hall
    pushing Oscar Smith,
    using the tray
    on his wheelchair
    to hold the
    copies she has made.
    I press my body
    against the wall, but
    Oscar sees me as they
    head for the elevator.
    No! says the voice
    coming out
    of his computer.
    Does something
    from out of the shadows
    move toward him,
    or is it my imagination?
    His arms and legs
    begin to flail.
    His head jerks
    to one side
    as if someone
    has slapped him
    and he groans.
    He presses his
    orange pencil
    into the device
    mounted on a metal bar
    attached
    to his chair.
    The words Get out!
    come screaming
    in a voice
    that sounds
    like it belongs
    to a robot.
    “What’s wrong with you,
    Oscar?” the teacher asks.
    “Are you hurt?”
    The voice just
    keeps howling,
    rocking the hall
    like a lowrider
    with the bass
    turned up too high.
    Get out! Get out! Get out!
    The teacher pushes
    Oscar
    into the elevator,
    and the voice stops.
    Then the strangest
    thing happens.
    Just as the
    elevator doors
    start to close,
    Oscar extends his arm,
    and his pencil
    goes airborne.
    It flies between
    the doors,
    causing them
    to stay open
    just a crack.
    Did he do it on purpose?
    I step out into the open
    to get a better look at him.
    He turns his head,
    stares at me,
    and there is something
    in his eyes
    telling me
    to run.
    The teacher peers
    into the H Hall.
    “What are you
    looking at, Oscar?”
    She doesn’t see me,
    though I’m in plain view.
    Then she picks up
    the pencil
    and the
    doors
    slide
    shut

HIDE AND SEEK
    I sit there shuddering
    for the longest time,
    wondering why that woman
    didn’t say anything.
    It was like I was invisible.
    I used to feel invisible all the time.
    That’s why I loved the stage,
    because when I heard people clapping,
    I knew they could see me.
    Dad said it wasn’t healthy
    to need to be the center of attention
    all the time.
    He said I should make some
    changes when I got to high school.
    He was sure the cure was team sports.
    “Sign up for anything,
    I don’t care, as long as you join a team.”
    He groaned when I came home with a
    permission slip for the Ravenettes,
    the dance squad that performs
    at all the big games,
    especially when he saw how much
    money he was going to have to spend
    on the outfits.
    Eventually he signed it, though.
    It was hard work, but I got in great shape.
    Guys would
    turn their heads to stare at me.
    Then Davis noticed me—
    He’d look at me and I’d think,
    I’m here, I’m alive, I matter.
    I liked the attention.
    Okay, I loved it!
    To be absolutely honest,
    I needed