That lull of sleepy summer morning ends
Across the countryside and city wends
The yellow bus, loaded with fears and cheers
As parents fuss, caught twixt both smiles and tears
And taunt of years that disappear like mist
Upon a strand all summer-tanned and kissed
The After is a pasture where thought strays
To trace the laughter of its yesterdays
Yet even in the After new Befores
Await; Time is a corridor of doors
Where none can see what waits behind the locks
Unsoldered by the shimmying of clocks
What precious cargo fills that school bus seat
Or streets, as back-packed past and present meet
The future, head-phoned and new-school-shoes-shod
Upon a path that their forefathers trod
Where mothers still blow kisses to the air
And fortify brave wishes with a prayer
© Janet Martin
The morning is full of I-can't-believe-how-fast-the-summer-went sentiment:)
Love...
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