How great it felt
To get into the library
That was still recovering
From the avalanche of books
Returned over the weekend.
My mission was to wander
Finding the good reads that called upon me,
Because summer should be restorative
Bereft of any semblance of academia,
So the learning soul can stay nourished.
Unfortunately, my search was destroyed
By an overly loud tutor,
Her voice carrying the sounds of exponents and math vocabulary
With an abundance of teacher arrogance
And less than adroit social skills.
Maybe I’m a little harsh on teachers and schools,
But as the immaturity of life
Has crept into my maturing years,
The love of learning philosophy has replaced
The mantra of measurables so prominent incurrent schooling.
I took my books,
A collection of art and music,
Went home to my summer lazed kids,
Got them covered in sunblock,
And sent them outside.
“What about math?” the oldest asked.
“There’s no one to play with,” the youngest offered.
At that moment, the teacher in me arose,
For I am a disciple of kinesiology,
Gym, if you prefer,
And those two boys went outside
To play without the slightest hint of a practice schedule.
When they came back in
They weren’t burdened with exponents
Or fancy acronyms for solving equations.
They were kids on summer vacation
Figuring out how to manage their time.
They’ll survive without daily academics.
They’ll go to college without an athletic scholarship.
They’ll be just fine.