School Days - Best Days Of Our Lives?
The pallor of the parquet floor
Brings recollections of
School, its classrooms, its corridors
Somehow the pattern pulls
Me into a journey through
Time; conjuring images
Of art and assemblies,
Of laughter and lateness,
Of parents and pupils and plans:
For a future unknown;
For escaping the lessons
And the chill of those changing rooms.
A mishmash of memories,
Butting up against each other
In a pattern I wouldn’t have at home.
Most I cherish fondly;
Others I’d like to forget, but they
Stick in my throat like a herringbone.
(Copyright: Paul A M Palmer)