The Anxiety Cycle Lily Merrick ’29 Oh what I would do, To go back to May. When all my anxiety, Faded up, up and away. The crunch of the leaves, And the ashes that do come. The rolling down of sleeves, Trail far away with a click in my thumb. And Just like that, The flowers have bloomed. Your old gloves and hats, Lie far away just like the dunes. The calm summer days, Went by in a blur. The school bells have rung, And you feel a slight flutter. The last memory of peace, Suddenly slips from your heart. When flowers start to crease, Thudding down and apart. 44
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