By George C. Harvilla
Art: “Scraps and Leaves” by Nawmii Manaam
We are each born pursuing extinction.
Some days I substitute teach.
Kindergarten today. And the questions.
Did you know my dad died in September?
Do you know my name?
Hannah.
Hannah is defiant, refuses to follow instructions.
What to do with her?
We watch Peep and Chirp. YouTube.
The class is still, content.
Turn the sound down, Hannah says. I like it better
when I can see the trees without all of Peep’s noise.
He thinks he has problems.
That’s an oak, she sighs.
It shouldn’t have leaves that time of year.
Adults are always lying.
They want kids to think nothing ever dies.
It’s cruel
George C. Harvilla is an organizational anthropologist, librettist, and executive leader in the global health sciences. His poems have appeared in Atlanta Review, Awakenings Review, California Quarterly, The Comstock Review, Dogwood, The Journal of Poetry Therapy, PoetsforScience.org, Willow Springs, among others. Awards include a 2025 Individual Artist Award from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts and two Masters Poetry Prizes.