Last of the school year
oozes by, spring mud
warm and slow every moment
catches and slows
world blossoming
outside the sealed windows,
while we grade essays
give tests
attend meetings
more meetings
say our goodbyes
waltzes play in the background
measured music
for the mudstuck
wading, all wading
towards the flash flood
of graduation
to wash us unprepared
so sudden after all the buildup
some of us still clutch
red pens, books of sonnets.
