Last day of school
everybody acts wrong.
Teachers smile too much.
Kids are louder.
Nobody cares about chapter five.
Half the room is already outside
in their minds.
Books get stacked.
Desks get cleaned out.
You find old papers
you thought were gone
and one pencil
chewed almost to nothing.
Then the bell rings
and all of it breaks open.
The running.
The yelling.
The buses.
The heat.
You’d think the big part
is what stays with you,
but what I remember most
is dust in the sunlight
by the windows
and how strange it felt
to leave a room
that had been nearly every day
for a whole year.