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THE ALLEYNIAN 710
Swan Song Lines composed after viewing S3 E11 of ‘The Sopranos’ Sito Udoaka (Year 13)
Yet, after some time, they all shine. They take their place, littering the meadow with their softly-asserted confidence, with enough support, at the trunk, for the branches to be able to sway to the wind’s content, without fear of falling, as these oaks know that they are supported too by their neighbouring roots, who by experience,
Now that it’s here; now that all the puerile knots become untangled and all those wayward souls that spent what seemed like ages strutting between hither and thither
contrive to find themselves on a more permanent path, one might say this is the end.
I, knowing it’s time to leave, feel almost mesmerised by my past; the stories, the people, the sounds that I know shaped me become spectres possessing me to look back and remember.
understand the importance of holding each other up.
Whilst closer to my own roots, I found a way to get even closer still – a pond shimmering in my mind. On this insidious pond
And so I seek to tread the primrose’d path of my memories’ garden, to re-taste the bittersweet milk in which I was forged. In the nursery I find sheltered seedlings, gently
I recount my younger self; still unsifted and unmarked by life’s malice. Wanting to be at one with this once-lost image I resolve to let
the water take me – until from nowhere,
brushing aside mounds of earth; which unashamedly unfurl and show their exuberance.
the pulsating current of the soprano’s full-bodied aria courses through my blood, velvet tears cascading from my eyes as, to the pond, I sing my final swan song, then towards my future I throw myself; headlong.
Out in the meadow, pubescent saplings strangle and clamber over each other, all striving to get that one sliver of light
that will make them outshine the others. The thick-rooted stamp out
those that can’t compete, leaving them instead to die in the darkness, whilst they, in their newfound light, still don’t feel quite right.
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