School’s In

Find me sixteen again,

In the waning days of August.

The summer comes to a close with a strawberry sunset

And I swat at the hot-weather static

But the gnats only sound louder

As I think of tomorrow,

The end of long empty asphalts and staccato yellow lines

Whisper grasses and velvet evenings,

Not lonely, but empty, white stretches of time

Giving birth to wild fantasies,

Singing softly in childhood ears,

But over, tomorrow.

Tonight, my sleep is overcast,

For summer dreams fade away.