They traced their chalk hand first;
yellow, pink, gold flowers second;
memorized the white ridges of that
good dog paw mold from the vet third;
all the accretions, good and bad of the
pastel outlines of life’s hopscotch fourth;
copied dutifully the chalkboard forms fifth;
leaving only the final one drawn by others,
the one washed away when the rains came,
the day they left for school and never returned.
Leave a Reply