Still little enough to hug and kiss me
on a black-top packed with people,
you put your arm around my waist, lean into me
with authenticity, and a hint of apprehension.
This year, you enter the brick cavern
with a loose tooth, and I wonder if you will lose it
while you are away from me, as you spend
so much time away from me.
We take these first steps, do these first days
over and over, swallow hard
and breathe into the stretch,
knowing we will not tear.
I have armed you with light-saber sneakers,
food for your journey (yes, I put fluff in the sandwich),
and hope, as the sun rises hot
on this first day.
Last year’s first day of school poem can be read here.