Beginnings
It’s beginnings that are magical.
On the first day of school the dew
Smells like new life and the dawn air
Is heavy with peace,
As you carry your brightly colored
Backpack, light with sharp pencils
In its belly. Eyes droop but come alive
As the bus pulls up yellow,
Clean. The walls of the school have been repainted
With laughter and old faces
Made new. Soon we won’t smell
The dew anymore.
The air will be heavy with
Exhaustion, and the weight of
Our books, the world.
Pencils will grow dull,
The walls will be plain,
Ordinary. It’s beginnings that are magical.
The process is unremarkable, but leads
To a new beginning.
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