The Stage

Long days are now cloud cast days.

Evening sprinkles, hesitation to come inside from the rain.

Laughter dwindling, less lightening bugs to capture.

Dusk brings color in rapture.

A forte of diminutive chimes resonate in the air.

No longer  ice cream truck and children squealing.

Time reeling .

Dusting books, setting desks, preparing for the BIG test.

Reality is a new, yet an old song of anticipation and fear.

The jester has set the stage.

Racing to take the seat in the rear.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s