Tuesday (an original poem)

Wind tumbles

Down the street

As middle aged women

Well dressed but in sneakers

Get pushed down the street

To work

 

NPR whispers

My son hums

On the way to school

Softly raise my coffee to mouth

Smooth liquid flowing lessons

To prep

 

Door opens

With everyday keys

Laying laptop along side piles

Student thoughts and student work

Calling, begging, demanding

To be noticed

 

All is quiet

All is possible

 

 

Clock runs

Coyly staying ahead

As students come and students go

Jamming in and squeezing out

Leaving thoughtful souvenirs and gum

To consider

 

Meetings start

With laden agendas

As teachers come and teachers go

Jamming in and squeezing out

15 dilemmas and 90 minutes

To resolve

 

Clock still runs

And door still opens

Student work still beckons

And laptop still on

Lessons yet to be planned

Student work yet to be read

Class yet to be tidied

 

 

All is quiet

Nothings seems possible

 

NPR recounts

My son narrates

On the way home

Softly raise hand to temple

Massaging focus towards narration

To respond

 

Clock still runs

And dinner now awaits

And homework now awaits

And showers and bedtime stories always await

And student work still beckons

And laptop still on

Lessons yet to be planned

Student work yet to be read

Home yet to be tidied

 

Nothing is quiet

Until it is

 

And then it is

I sit in my chair

Ears buzz and mind awakes

To student voice both now and then

To needs

To wants

To wishes and desires

To smiles and to frowns

To progress

 

All is quiet

All is possible

 

On any given

Tuesday of the year.