By fourth grade we know
if we’ll never be popular
and have perfected our lonely staring.
We have memorized every forsaken
crack in the cafeteria walls.
We can guess the time to within half an hour
from the angle and brightness
of the grass. We enter new rooms
and immediately study the intersections
of walls or scratches in the tile.
But at four, my sister is still standing
in the middle of the classroom
asking some girl to play
And when the girl turns
to another girl, suddenly smiling
with a fist of crayons,
for the first time in her life
my sister does not know
where to look.