First Day
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The backpack was too big for the child carrying it—
it listed to the left on the way in,
but the pride was larger than the backpack,
and the pride leaned into it with a grin.
First day: the smell of new books and new pencils,
the organized hope of blank and waiting pages,
the desk assigned, the name tag pressed in place,
the new beginning that the new year stages.
We never know at the first day
that we are living something we will long for—
we only know the backpack and the classroom
and the child who carries both before us.
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The backpack was too big for the child carrying it—
it listed to the left on the way in,
but the pride was larger than the backpack,
and the pride leaned into it with a grin.
First day: the smell of new books and new pencils,
the organized hope of blank and waiting pages,
the desk assigned, the name tag pressed in place,
the new beginning that the new year stages.
We never know at the first day
that we are living something we will long for—
we only know the backpack and the classroom
and the child who carries both before us.
