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Slowly Toward The Sky

My body aches from end to end-
Where is she going,
I suppose from elementary to high school
Is her end:
As she pledges allegiance to the flag
Every morning—
In her equalized standards—what will
She go home thinking:
What has she learned—is this the Harlem
Renaissance—
Is this her last amen?
And if this is just an echo of the final
School bus she takes to school,
Then she will think nothing of
That echo—
Even as if she were an alligator who learned
To cry,
The foxes creeping slowly toward the
Vineyards,
The airplanes creeping slowly toward the sky.

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
Added by Poetry Lover
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