It smelt like school this morning.
The first light of the first day of a new school year,
walking down the paved path, satchel in hand, wondering what the day would bring,
what misunderstandings would happen,
what scolding I’d earn for fidgeting or not doing my work
because I didn’t understand yet again.
The other kids, all so at ease, until I try to join in.
They lie to each other, say I’ve stolen this, hogged that,
and not let me play.
Not that I understood how to play, anyway.
But that’s not the point.
When the seasons turn
and give off their scent, that crisp to September air,
it fills my head with these visions
and all the textures, sounds and emotions
that go with them, and even after all these years
I can’t turn them off.
Treeshallow Musings 