I imagine you foal-legged on the first day of the week,
waking to meet the filtered morning
and sipping chai tea. I
watch you cross the persian carpet floor and
pick the person you want to be today.
The summer skin is now dried away, and
your powder face is ready,
the fresh peach cheeks
and the curve of a crooked smile
grow goosebumps on boys' arms,
as you swing yours to class.