SCHOOL
You're like a little wild thing
that was never sent to school.
Sit, I say, and you jump up.
Come, I say, and you go galloping down the sand
to the nearest dead fish
with which you perfume your sweet neck.
It is summer.
How many summers does a little dog have?
Run, run, Percy
This is our school.
by: Mary Oliver
from the collection of poems called DOG SONGS
The holes in the wall
Play the flute
This autumn evening
by: Issa
from The Essential Haiku