White Chalk Lines

 

Looking at the Crayola drawings
hung up on the cabinet, take
me back to the time.
I was no longer by your side
but a part of a crowd
of whispers.

I was not ready to leave you
even the first class bell
made me jump,
it was like the alarm clock
I would learn to hate.

It reminds me of
that Elementary School black top,
you know, the one with the
white chalk lines
marking each grade.

As I stood there,
hands in my pockets,
afraid to reach out to
someone new,

But years later, now
I know why you let me go,
so I could keep coming home
to thank you