Waiting for My Son on the Jr. High School Steps

by Kathy Evans

A book should learn to fly into a flower. A flower should never close up like a book. The principal should arrange a meeting with the paramecium, or any of the genus of ciliate infusorians. Children should never wade out of their dreams. A stream should stop, rocks should jump, and flies become the aura of the one you love. Shoes shouldn't have tongues, only clean white laces. New rubber boots should squeak in the halls. Lockers should always be filled with balloons and school buses float away with the clouds. Snapping turtles should take the day off, as well as the teachers who have turned into chalk. There there will be more silence. There there will be more wisdom. Then we would have education.