Reluctance, Robert Frost

It's back-to-school today.  Boo.  I have ALWAYS hated back-to-school, but perhaps most so as a parent.  Of course, I love the quiet and lack of bickering around the house, but I loathe the inorganic nature of sending kids to sit indoors for a third of the day when it is still warm outside.  School recommences earlier and earlier every year and the alleged powers that be espouse excuse after excuse.  The students hate it, the teachers hate it, the building admins hate it; starting this early is entirely unnecessary.  It's still summer, you basic fucks.

To that end, I stumbled across a rather fitting poem by Robert Frost entitled Reluctance.  I'll let it speak for itself.  It may not be actual winter creeping in yet, but school is in session...and that is winter for the soul.  

RELUCTANCE

Out through the fields and the woods

And over the walls I have wended;

I have climbed the hills of view

And looked at the world, and descended;

I have come by the highway home,

And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,

Save those that the oak is keeping

To ravel them one by one

And let them go scraping and creeping

Out over the crusted snow,

When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,

No longer blown hither and thither;

The last lone aster is gone;

The flowers of the witch hazel wither;

The heart is still aching to seek,

But the feet question "Whither?"

Ah, when to the heart of man

Was it ever less than a treason

To go with the drift of things,

To yield with a grace to reason,

And bow and accept the end

Of a love or a season?