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Like morning pans of bacon
Their faces spatter
Voices crisping in the early summer sun.
Last day of school reels out of control; tumbling in far off space awaiting the final bell.
Swishing swings are slicing wind and the whop of the breeze smacks hot, tiny faces.
Like little piggies they run; squealing and darting; pounding patent leather on pavement.
A fanfare of pulled pigtails and stolen kisses sound, delighting in love's young joust.
Then with Backpacks emptied, like a warrior's battle cry, the children cheer the bell.and with swimming pool and cotton candy fantasies whirling in their heads they make for the door and into the magic that is a child's summer break.
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Katiemae1977
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