School Begins

With summer tan aglow on freckled faces,

With hands scrubbed clean that were (and will be) black,

They tumble in and take their schoolroom places,

Half eager, half reluctant to be back.

I meet them in my best schoolteacher fashion,

I let them ramble on about their fun,

Then try to make them work with that same passion

They always give to playing in the sun.

Outside the summer melts in autumn haze,

A locust drones his homage to the light,

A warm breeze blows across the meadow-ways;

The children's wistful eyes are misty-bright.

And while their gaze is fixed beyond the door,

I have to teach them two and two are four!

~ Eleanor Graham Vance