a poem a day for a year #234

by Amy Turn Sharp


we huddle like a team
strategy
drink starbucks and pace around the playground
just walk away
pull the band-aid

don't let them see you cry
have a good day baby
old pros walk past us
with a tilt of the head
a tiny slice of smug
first day of school
they whistle
first day


we watch the kindergarten class
walk like a line of bees into the heart of
the teacher
walking the line that
without any doubt means
that time is moving faster
that children turn into adults in the blink of an eye
he disappears into the brick building
and we already know how this goes
and so it goes