Summer School

By

Alba rugosa, white roses, climb the brick walls and wilt. Somewhere a guitar is playing ``Carnival in Venice,'' then is still. Girls in shorts and thin dresses wade through the sprinkler arcs. At the cafeteria doorway a boy pulls doves from a hat and laughs. The doves flutter up into blue skies, hover, then fly away. The day stays for me in a poem saying nothing lasts more than a day.

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