Out we go
from the stoic, red brick school
it’s 1920 doors creaking on
brass hinges
now yawning open
housing scholars
for almost a hundred years
We breathe high school
now freed for thirty minutes
more like 27.3 after the packed stairs
We head down Avenue Y
past the house
with the plastic deer
and green carpet for grass
Zavier saunters
touches his hair, those top curls
he’s stylin’ in those black and white Jordans
I slam into Antonio
captain of the soccer team
we are going to Aurelio’s store
serving tacos and white frosted donuts
to kids on the way back to class
or crowding into
a slightly rusted 1993 Ford Escort
for skipping out
on a regular afternoon
Today we are steadfast
not wayward athletes
and we go back
past the plastic deer
and flowers
past trays of steaming tacos
past Vanessa who brushes
the sunlight from her hair
and Zavier’s tears from her memory
it’s high school, after all…
I dream of days
when I can pick mangos
and polish stars
but it’s not today
we go back toward
the red brick building
a battle tower with commandments
carved on the pediment
Tablet of truth, it may be
but we follow the commandments
of youth
subduing the urges of
vibrance and hustle
back to class we go
back to class….
https://youtu.be/HhPW-ipkf0s
I could see you all, heading out the doors, down the street, then back again. Great poem! π
Thanks so much, Linda, for stopping by to read and comment!
You’ve created an interesting atmosphere in this poem, Lana. Really evokes the imagination, lovely! π
Thank you for the lovely compliment, Iris π
My pleasure, Lana. π
Reblogged this on John Cowgill's Literature Site.
Thanks John!
You are very graciously welcome.
Love it! Great picture as well!
Thanks so much, Poetpas!
Youβre welcome Lt. π
You have taken me back to when I substituted at the high school level. Your students stumbled out along with your words to set the mood. Well done!
Thanks Jo! They are interesting character studies for sure!
I love this, Lana. That’s just what it felt like, all of it. You create such an incredible vision and familiar sensation with your poems. <3
Thank you so much, Diana. High school kids are interesting character studies, and yes, some things have been the same through the ages π
I like how this ends where it begins, at the school doors. On the way out, on the way back in. Imagine, a school still around 100 years later… our buildings are new, and yet there is always a levy to replace something. This cracked me up: “now freed for thirty minutes / more like 27.3 after the packed stairs”–the precision of that 27.3! Vivid descriptions of the kids and the neighborhood, there’s always one house with a plastic deer and fake grass. My favorite lines were these: “I dream of days / when I can pick mangos / and polish stars / but itβs not today.” The concrete astride the ethereal. Well executed, Lana. π
Thank you, Joan. High school is always an interesting time period in people’s lives. So much going on. I see kids every week, and I always imagine what they’ve been up to. Happy Friday, Joan π
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