As we drive past this
Elementary school I feel
A smile on my lips
(It doesn't tug, but rather pulls)
As I see windows that have classroom
Number printed on the side,
creating a pattern
Bricks glass bricks glass
Nostalgia hits through me
And it feels like I've discovered
Time travel
Because suddenly I'm eight years old
With a Disney lunch box and pigtails
And eyes that are wide open,
And my Little Mermaid book bag
Full of messy drawings and dreams
But then we hit a pothole,
And I'm back in 2017
with my smudged glasses
And jingling keys
(But the smile, it still haunts me)
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye, Pastel
PoetryI wonder is you can feel it too- The discrete pockets of sunlight Slipping through on dreary days; It warms my skin and fuels my smile. I'll keep the garden, After all. {Sequel to Fake Flowers}
