I see him running,
Hands in the air waving,
Through the double glazed door,
Heedless and rushing like the day before.
His small head looks up at the racks,
Eyeing a gap between shoes and backpacks,
To the highest rack his hands can rise,
He places his slippers in a gap caught by his dancing eyes,
Once again through a second set of doors,
Quickly he dashes the patter of feet as he goes,
Joining a line he stands,
Just as His Lord commands,
Hands he folds on his tummy then his chest,
He wonders as they slide up and down which spot is best,
Then as if he hears a voice reminding,
He raises them to his ears rewinding to the beginning.