August is knocking at the door
a hot mess of back-to-school
with new shoes, pencils, and
a new backpack
It used to be that
kids got to run wild
during the dog days,
endless sprinkler parties
and popsicle sleepovers
Now they are lucky
for any vacation, any gasps
of time blissfully away
from the hard thumb of authority,
the arch and watchful eye
of educational agendas,
the crack of principles’ whip
I guess you can tell how I feel about how early school starts these days! Thanks for reading.
The Poetry Patio 