But oh, Autumn, the newspaper inserts that heralded:
Discounts on scissors, white school glue, colored pencils,
3-holed binder paper, spiral notebooks, both college-ruled,
Dried my throat, made my fists clench. When, dear God, when?
Weeks ago, we pined for cool mornings,
Sendoffs with kisses, notes tucked in sack lunches,
Tied shoes, combed hair, a jacket grudgingly worn,
Tucked in a backpack by first recess.
We’ll happily sign homework, permissions, reports,
Fold ourselves into half-size chairs for discussions on shape-drawing and fluency.
We’ll send last minute snacks cut and wrapped in bite-sized chunks,
Screened for peanuts, sugar, soy, or partially-hydrogenated-whatchamacallits.
You, teachers: our saviors, our warriors, our demons, our nemeses,
Whose shoes we’re thankful we don’t wear,
We’ll take with salt the stories of your apocalyptic meltdowns,
If you’ll ignore the accounting of parental post-dinner cocktails.
Winter holidays may hold hold the cold at bay,
Early Spring flowers break the chill that seeps to bone,
Summer promises of sultry evenings, salty skin,
And pleasures of a cold drink, sweating on the patio.
All pale to the joy invoked by the bright yellow shuttle,
Chauffeuring our boisterous progeny
Away from their daily mess, open cupboards, shoes strewn about a home
Newly quiet again.
School. Such a good thing. You’re with me, right? Vote for my little blog if you agree by clicking below.
Photo by Hugo90