Today, I neglected the voices wafting up and down the stairs,
the doors slamming behind some old, brown Converse,
the unsigned permission slip, the readied lunch bag,
the see-you-tonights and have-a-good-days.
Today, Lennie died, and most everyone agreed it was for the best.
George did it to be kind, some said, others said it was selfish.
Only one said it just wasn’t okay to take another’s life, no matter what.
Today, I shared sweet tarts and Starbursts, and coffee,
the messengers of gratitude and taking deep breaths.
Today, I thought about tomorrow before the sun had even pinked the sky.