On the Last Day of Summer Break
I’m home alone,
cleaning house,
sweeping, dusting,
mopping, emptying
the trash, doing small
errands that have been
waiting a long time,
like those framed drawings
of France that needed
hanging, and that boat painting;
now they’re up.
I put away
all the piles of rags and
brushes and paint cans
and ladders from the recent
bathroom project,
and now it’s raining.
I empty the dog’s outside
waste bucket and
almost throw up.
You’ve got to hold
your breath for
a long time for
that job and that’s
why it doesn’t get
done as often as
it should.
I’ve been listening
to loud music and
when enough time
goes by after taking
care of the dog stuff,
I eat a sandwich.
Maybe I’ll turn off
the music and read
for awhile.
I like being alone
but I’ll be glad to see
my wife and boy
when they return
from the beach.
We’ll have dinner
together and I’m sure
we’ll have a laugh
or two around some
beach story they’ll tell me
about the campfire or
about how many showers
the boy had to take
to wash off the sand
or about the horseback
adventure they were planning.
Things are just this way
and I’m not even
thinking about teaching.
There’ll be time for that
tomorrow morning,
the morning teachers
go back to school,
the morning after the
last day of summer break.
michael jarmer 