88. School's out

For a few days I am staying in a house facing a school

Every morning I hear
the huge noise of kids' voices mingling
sloshing around the courtyard, lapping at my window

Then at 8:30 suddenly silence
the clamour canned, bottled in, swallowed up
To be spat out again at noonchimes

And I, hunched over my own work,
both pity and envy
This made-to-order frenzy
This ability to leap out screaming
at the top of one's lungs