I’m in my old haunts,
A tiled floor gymnasium
Built for all-purpose use
And the young ones,
Elementary school kids.

Much of what was here when I was
Is gone,
The ropes, the cargo net, the climbing wall,
But I can see those kids,
Running, sweating, jumping over bean bags

I miss those days,
The enthusiasm,
The attention,
The way we played games
AND LEARNED while doing so.

It was real education through the physical,
It never felt like a corralling of kids,
A step above study hall,
One removed from home ec,
The place where I make my living now.

I’m getting to the point where I miss the old days,
White hair will do that to a soul.
I wonder what it would be like to go back.
To end the years the way they started.
Surely annoyances would exist, maybe they wouldn’t…