classroom full of desks
empty of sound movement energy
the whiteboard traps faded
and fading ghosts
see you next year
have a great summer
a giant smiling face
outside sprinklers
fire like machine guns
in a 40s gangster film
and sunlight washes
the room in heat
and smell of pine
from the floor fills the room
Words and Feathers 
I mostly hated school. But for some reason I would sometimes, in summer, find myself (ahem) letting myself in for a tour. I loved the silence and the smell of the place and could feel those “ghosts” …your poem brought back great memories. Thank you.
You’re welcome. I’m afraid I was the opposite. I loved school. While I was happy for a break, by the last month of summer I felt at loose ends and anticipated that imminent return. What the hell was wrong with me?
Whatever it was, it’s sorted itself out.
Brings back a memory… I can smell the pine from the floor, hear the sprinklers. Really sets a mood, a tone…
Thanks! Happy to be today’s time machine.
Simpler times… (Or so we think now….)