The First Day of School | POETRY

This morning I watched as my daughter excitedly climbed on to the school bus

Holding tightly to Summer's hand and dragging her behind.

Together, they drifted into the darkness of the aisle and back into the monotony of routine Leaving traces of handmade clay models and half-eaten popcorn on the ground as they went.

In her reluctance, Summer looked back and longingly reached out to me with her free hand

Doing her best to cling on to the last bits of sunshine and lemonade

With the solemn knowledge that Fall was on the freeway and making its way

Eagerly and quickly

To us.

As the bus started to roll away

I latched desperately on to Summer's hand and yanked her back to me

Insisting that she stay as long as she can.

I held her to my chest and begged her for one more day of lush, green trees and honeybees in the clover of our front yard

And wept into her warm, golden hair as I realized the hard truth with which I am confronted this time every year: Summer will soon be on her way.

Just one more day.

Soon, she will take her leave

Never to be seen again until the children that left on the bus are one year older and three hundred and sixty five days wiser.

When she returns, I pray she finds us as she'll leave us: warm, without want, and ready for more sunshine and lemonade.

-First Day of School

(August 22, 2022)