Coming back to school is chaotic, like this poem.

Dearest Darwin,
I’m caught in a moment,
Ensnared because if I show that,
I will become a nomad.

Wandering the forest,
Wondering at its certainty
The trees calamity and organized chaos.
Each root shooting out into different directions,
Direct and deliberate no matter the look of it to
The indifferent mind.

Opening my eyes,
Not liking what I find,
Closing each again can I ever pretend,
The roots don’t intersect?
Do I want to forget deliberate indifference?
Yes,
But I won’t.

Because hummingbirds try to pierce the pride of bees and birds
For a chance to cure Darwin’s merciless curse:
A Search For The Fittest.

Letting a mussel hidden by ribs decide my thoughts,
Liberate my skin from a feeling saying
—I won’t win—deserves a chapter, Mr. Charles D.,
Just like the hummingbird’s unintentional opposition to bees.

So let’s call an assembly and deliberate
Over my decision to instigate
An obligation to unlock the gate,
Leading to understanding, forgiveness, and acceptance of
Our mistakes.

Because Darwin we still marvel at your classification,
But
It seems to have divided a nation that seems to have forgotten about
It’s roots.