We will soon be gone from this place

I sit perched on a school bench,
the tinkling sound of water
dripping on a tilled garden,
planted with small hands.

We have seen much here...
days frolicking in mud
well loved songs and room jobs
art work with glue, pom poms, and glitter.

Change is upon us,
the blessing of anger,
creating opportunity for
a new kaleidescope of color.

My stomach clenches
with old fears unspoken
cloaked in the self-deception of
them not knowing anything else.

But there will be...
other easels to paint on,
different structures to climb,
and the planting of new roots.

An opportunity ahead
for each of my children
to be flying solo
in their own classroom.

We will soon be gone
from this place
the destinations & pick-ups
no longer mapped here.

	Tweet