as much as i hear what you say
i will never understand why.
how in any right mind
could five rooms full of
talking-back teenagers
ever compare
to the jubilant joy
of young children
dashing through the snow?

their voices carry
like songbirds emerged in winter,
shutting out all the
whipping wind’s hollowness.
you would rather be here,
trapped in our windowless dungeon,
feeding them the lines
you’ve spouted so many times?

i’ll take my two weeks
and carry them in my mind
on my forever vacation.
for now,
i will draw a zipper across my lips
and, for once, be polite.
after all,
this year cannot carry on,
and summer’s sun,
giggling girls,
and road trips
beckon my dreams
from your harsh reality.

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