Bright, this morning’s fatal point,
as down the lane I walk,
edges brilliant, sharply lined,
denying summer’s lazy stalk.
Midst starch and press just oversized,
welcoming spurts of growth,
my awkward steps approach the fields
where friends resound in languished mope.
Through squinting eyes I find the lines
attached to every open door,
searching through the lists of names,
hoping for a little more…
Mrs. Leatherman’s heavy hand,
Mr. Peck’s muppet scowl,
as circling birds in buddied groups,
watching,
hoping,
closing now…
Through scent of bleach, assigned to seats,
giant maps upon the wall,
musky books of history,
handed out through sighs from all.
This day of firsts, in echoed throes,
pretends to know what no one knew,
yet blends in temporal fragment’s points,
each year’s angst recalled and true.
Till now, uniquely drifting,
lost in slipstream’s melting cast,
still drives these August senses blue,
when “back to school” comes too darn fast.
jaybluepoems 
Such a melancholy tone to this, from the opening stanza onward. Felt as if I was right there beside you, searching for my name, sighing as the textbooks are passed around.
Thanks… i didn’t think much about it until today… Haha… still feel it in August… can almost smell the musty books.
Nice sound throughout and in these lines: “my awkward steps approach the fields
where friends resound in languished mope.”
Thanks Frank
I do love reading your poetry! It bears a touch of tradition along with the lightness of heart of one forever `young . . . Bravo!
Thanks Peter. I always appreciate your kind comments my friend. Hope all is well with your and yours.
I love the flow of your poem and the images they conjure up! The angst is very evident as you share your journey. Great job. So… now we are on the big ice flow anticipating the big melt down and blend.
Thanks. Yep, the big ice flow for certain.
You captured it perfectly!
Thanks. Still feel it. Haha.
So many of your lines evoke that lament from childhood into the real world of adulting responsibilities. The “musky books of history,
handed out through sighs from all.” is one I can especially remember. Minutes seemed to slow to years and on that first day, it seemed like the school year would last an eternity. Haha, now time can’t seem to slow enough.
Yes… I’ve experimented with a modification to Einstein’s theory of relativity in an effort to explain this accelerated time thing. Not real science.
Haha https://jayblueobservations.wordpress.com/2014/02/12/an-extrapolation-on-the-theory-of-relativity/
I so enjoyed this poem, Jay! I like the lines:
‘Midst starch and press just oversized,
welcoming spurts of growth,
my awkward steps approach the fields
where friends resound in languished mope’
and can picture children wearing uniforms to grow into!.
and love the rhythm and flow of the middle section – the list of names.
Thanks Kim! It was s good prompt, for sure. Brought back recollection of things i hadn’t thought about in some time. Happy summer to you by the way.
Thanks Jay and the same to you!
Perfectly captured a familiar numbness I also felt in August while calculating how many happily unencumbered days I had left.
Thank you. The grandkids are on countdown here. One week left. Haha
A lot of great sensual details here – bleach, musky, August blue. But also some really intriguing turns of phrase like “where friends resound in languished mope” and “circling birds in buddied groups,” a line I definitely feel.
Thank you…
Love the rhyming here…and most especially the descriptive details you’ve added…and the ending! 🙂
Thanks Lillian