The crackle of the cardboard peeling from the paper

The smell as the paper’s dust opens up naïve memories

So much to ingest, I would think,

even at a young age on the first day of school,

even after I had released the previous night’s dinner

the morning of that first day

as part of my annual ritual

The weather was always perfect

My thighs burned from the full throttle sprint

to my mono-chromatic yellow chariot.

Everyone would be friends for that one day,

if only for that one day,

forgetting the previous year’s squabbles.

And for a child,

regardless of age,

unpacking brand new gear into a personal locker,

an identity-creating safe-house away from home,

creates a very empowering experience,

one more step forward in the rituals of human development.

 

(appendix)

i write this as i begin a new b&w composition

wide-ruled

100 sheets…

quite the circle, this life

 

 

-  af

 

 

(written with pen on paper)