A sea of, seemingly, one-thousand young, round faces surround me.
Freshly cut grass and adventure lingers under my nose.
Hot, silent, summer air swarms my soul.

Summer has yet to come,
but the heat that presses against my skin
signals that the freedom I yearn for will soon show itself.

I have mistakenly misplaced myself
in all the excitement--muffled screams sound all around,
but I am lost inside my own mind.

I adore all the social interaction, and become so enthralled
I forget to perform the assigned actions for each activity,
which are crucial to field-day-fun.

This is not for me. Not for any of us.

We're all practically adults, now! We should act accordingly.
We are, after all, almost Freshmen,
with one summer and this afternoon separating us from our fate.

Standing as tall and proud as a great reed in a small lake,
I pretend I am confident in my future—unquestioning; unvacillating.

I pretend I do not have all these thoughts
swimming around in the back of my mind:
that I will—we all will—soon be tadpoles.