New School
I had heard about it.
Then I saw it being built on the burial ground
of a field I had many times
played war upon.
Between noon and sundown,
the concrete arose;
an ashen boned jaw
riveted to the skyline.
I still looked to the green field
where, as Custer
I had made my 'last stands'.
I dreamed once that I was a dog,
just a pup,
chained to the school's bicycle rails.
Inside the new school
teachers screeched through split nails.
When they installed the glass
and painted the new building,
a too quiet foreboding came my way.
I knew that the arrow in my eye
was going to be pushed
a lot further in one day.
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