Cut And Paste

by Samuel De Lemos

It’ my morning ritual to
drive my son to school.

Drop him off with the
usual pleasantries,
“have a good day son”,

“good-bye dad.”,
he cheerfully responds,

Off he goes—
bright eyed and
bushy tailed,
smiling with his
backpack in hand,

to absorb the wonderful
things 4th graders
aught to learn.

I wish I could cut and paste
myself into his world.

Return to that innocent
time of playing kickball,
or chasing my friends
around the playground
without care or prejudice.

Then devotedly listen
to my teacher describe
the magical wonders
of the Amazon’s
multiple canopied

or learn about the
funny antics of the
yellow tailed lemur.

If only I could return
to those classroom filled days;
where I can smell a bouquet
of freshly sharpened
#2 pencils for the first time.

Where, the
anticipation builds
for morning recess,
to see, once
and for all, who the
fastest runner
in school is?

Instead, I’m stuck
in morning traffic and
honking at me

while, in the
back of my mind,
I’m worried that my
bill is past due, and
that nagging
I need to lose.

I wish I could cut
and paste that too,

or at least
hit delete,
and have it