Saturday, October 22, 2011

Hardwood Floors

It’s the smell. The smell of hundred-year-old
hardwood floors in this old school I recognize most,
floors grown thick and corpulent with untold layers
of pine-scented oil - floors darkened, smoothed
by the trample of children herded, then corralled
in dank stables down these long corridors. I also
remember the confinement I felt, pinned within
these stables, wanting nothing more than to be free,
with the wind of youth brushing my untamed hair.


Bill said...

You've brought me back to school, Warren. Don't know whether to thank you or chew you out.

Warren said...

Probably, if you disliked school like I did, you should cuss me out. Thanks for your reading, Bill!