New Boy
by Ros Barber
He is walking a line; his footsteps mark a square
around the playground. The others forget his name:
a boy that isn’t really anywhere.
Wherever he was just then, he isn’t there
but somewhere further along, just out of frame.
He is walking a line; his footsteps mark a square
enclosing his teacher, enclosing the autumn air.
She blames no-one, knowing she cannot blame
a boy that isn’t really anywhere.
He is more than alone. While other children pair
off by the fence and a penalty kicker takes aim,
he is walking a line. His footsteps mark a square
like the edge of a board, a game of solitaire.
He doesn’t seem to know another game.
A boy that isn’t really anywhere
is on the perimeter. You’d think he doesn’t care
about being different. But still, and just the same,
he is walking a line; his footsteps mark a square,
a boy, that isn’t really anywhere.
Previously published in Poetry Review (1999) and The School Year: Three Terms of Poems, edited by Brian Moses (MacMillan Children’s Books, 2001).
My God – people still write villanelles? Bravo!
Maybe not so much in the US. In England, there’s a bit of a New Formalist movement. Not that I would admit to being part of any such thing. I just like form.
you are really fanastic,i like the way you write ,wish you all the best.