The First Day

Hiding my face at the gate
I wait
for something to pull me 
from the inertia
of my fear.

Until it builds to breaking
through
and off I run
to join the fray
on this, my first day.

Sixty years past
I still remember 
the wonder of pre-school
at our neighbor’s home 
right beside the lake.

And so I think 
you too will remember this
as the first thing
you really had
of your own.

(for Tyrome - 9/5/23)
Copyright © | Year Posted 2023

Poem

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