second grade art

when in the day
lights dawning
hours passing

a lion stares
into my heart
and roars

yes, this is the moment
of scissors, of scotch tape
of silhouettes and oaktag

But where is the poetry
to etch in number two pencil
before we screech it down
in permanent black marker

the lion's roar
echoes for a bit
then fades into the gallery

only the ink stains
and slicing scent of xylene
left as a reminder

of the moment
when
boys were boys
and so
were men.