I'm walking my son to school.
He forgot his backpack
And his conduct sheet,
Which I must sign.
When we get to school
I can feel it in the air
Done. Out of here.
Free.
Passing parents, teachers, and students,
their body language whispers
Done. Out of here.
Free.
"I won't have to help them!"
"No more late nights!"
Done. Out of here.
Free.
Winding roads becon
For new young explorers.
Done. Out of here.
Free.
The pool will soon open
So swim, play, or dive in.
Done. Out of here.
Free
Excitement is building,
It's on the move.
Done. Out of here.
Free.
Turning towards the walk home,
the morning storm is retreating.
Done. Out of here.
Free.
The feeling follows
As I cross the road.
Done. Out of here.
Free.
And I wonder, if perhaps
The feeling that is following
Has nothing to do
With school's summer break.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
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1 comment:
Crud... just lost my post.
The jist of it was: I like your poem. I get it.
Also - sincerely regret spending my last 2 weeks at work pushing all my files into the shred-it bin like an Enron wannabe.
Just realized yesterday that I missed my best chance in 20 years to run through the halls throwing up all my files in the air because SUMMER IS HERE. I'm DONE.
Dammit. I'll do it next time...
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