perpetual september
just because class is back in session
doesn’t mean summer is over
out in the country
barn doors are still not shut
horses running free
chasing southern sun falling fast
back in town old school windows
are thrown wide open
faces sticking out and tongues wagging
uninterested in arithmetic
doodling one wild idea after another
sometimes october never arrives
forever waiting in the wings
oh yes sometimes
september is simply perpetual
august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Love the feel of this poem…put me in mind of ‘little house on the praire’…beautiful country spotted with indian summer color and one room schoolhouse with kids wide eyed on window views…very nice.
Thank you for visiting and commenting on this piece, Dorianna.
summer is not over till there’s snow on the swings. Lovely Poem Jdub.
Thank you, Denise.