Obligatory backpacks bought,
duo-tangs and the cornucopia of Sharpies,
heralding the dull march back to classrooms, schedules.
In this forlorn wake a trail of
unhurried pancake breakfasts,
scrabble games that last for hours
and lying perfectly still on the sun-scorched dock,
until perhaps trailing a finger,
but only one.
Boats pulled out for the season
children rushing to school
and like a switch was flipped overnight
the water in the bay now darker
the light becomes a
The school uniform, penance.
The wool knee socks even in summer.
The black serge tunics
shiny, slick, crisp, from too many hot irons.
The geese now heading south
unsettling sounds overhead, clearly the desperate pleas
of those who seek release.