at the school gate

children mill around

each other excitedly,

a high-pitched timbre

like anxious birdsong

hovers just above them

like a joyful cloud,

it’s the last day of term

for some, the last day

at this school for others,

a guarantee that there

will be many tears later,

standing nearby oblivious

to this cacophony

young mothers talk

to their phones to make

Ikea brunch rendezvous for

meatballs, never-ending

coffee and pipe-dream

home furnishing projects,

young and old it seems

all changing rooms.

© Graham R Sherwood 07/25