Happy Days

The boy and his dad
Stood in the morning sun.
Squinting, he looked up,
His dad’s beard was
The color of his own hair,
It shined in the light.
He used to be here alone
Until his dad stopped working
Now he waited with him
For the school bus.
His dad was sad
About losing his job,
Sometimes his mom acted
Mad, leaving for work,
But the boy was secretly glad.
He loved the stories his dad
Told him while they waited.
How he used to stand here
When he was young,
Their old stone house
Was the school long ago,
A blue and yellow sign
By the corner says so.
He told him of his granddad
Going to the school and how
All the walls used to be space,
Even his little blue bedroom.
The whole kitchen wall was
Covered by a big blackboard
And the teacher’s desk sat right
Where they ate their dinner.
The bus groaned to a stop,
His dad gently ruffled his hair
As he climbed the steps.
He hoped his dad
Would never find a job.