From Karen's prompt: write about school or schooling
I walked home from school
in the days when a child could still do that
in the days before
the wall-mounted telephone
fell in to disrepute
I carried my books in a plastic satchel
It was plaid with a red handle
and a metal clasp that looked like brass
but wasn’t
All the houses I passed on my 4 block trek
were either white or gray
except one
tiny pink shotgun
with a tumble-down porch
and screens full of holes
The lady there didn’t like kids
to cut across her yard
with its patches of brown grass
sprinkled between the weeds
She glared
from the kitchen window
and sometimes
knocked on the glass
so I would cross over to the other side of the road and quicken my steps till I was past that house
I crossed the street
without a crossing guard,
I walked home from school sometimes alone
or else I rode my bike
barefoot and without a helmet
with no fear at all
but for an old woman in a sad pink house
on a corner lot
of an old shell road
in a little town
were everyone knew my name
