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.