The brick steps
Are worn
By little feet
Who everyday climb them

In the morning,
The little feet rush up them,
Not wanting to arrive after the bell.

In the afternoon,
They rush down them,
Eagerly streaming from the entryway
After a long hard day at school

The doorknobs
Are covered with fingerprints
Made by the kids
Who everyday swing the door open.

In the morning,
They pull it hastily
To hide from the chaos
Of the doorway
And seek the safety
Of the classroom.

In the afternoon,
Hands full of books,
They push the door open a crack
With their backpacks
And slip through
Running home.

Miriam