Spanglish park play date
joy found amongst las ramas
friend language rooted
(questionable choice–
my student’s family, my girls–
here we cross borders)
education
No Matter How Hard
the teacher’s spring break:
finishing apathy’s work
with my daughters’ hands
Presenting…
strangely beautiful
test schedule, extra plan time
caught up just this once
late winter snow falls
reminding us spring still waits
to come into bloom
small Thursday presents
give presence to renewed need
to win tomorrow
Butterflies
a sound of thunder
beats down truer every day
good lord save us all
An Earful
to have someone listen
with eyes and words offered in peace
and make promises you know she’ll keep
and coo at cute colleagues’ babies
and smile behind tears we all so often hide…
it makes a Monday bearable,
a coffeehouse tea taste smooth and soothing,
a repressed voice feel fulfilled for the first time in years,
and a view into the future shine bright with silver linings
Serve It Up
a sunny March Friday
juiced with music and art
divided by a field trip
pounded by a parent teacher conference
squeezed between piano and happy hour
(tea for me please)
topped off with restaurant and workout
and the cooling creamy dream
of mint chocolate chip
for a sunny side down ending
to my never ending meal
In Case You Wondered…
the school door is locked at 5 a.m.
in case you needed to know,
your key card will conjure the green light,
but the door won’t click open.
7-Eleven is open at that hour,
and there’s no traffic on any street.
nothing but a sliver of silver moonlight
competing with the dull yellow glow of city streetlights.
you can walk with fear in your step
(who is that hooded creature?)
while waiting for the door to open.
listen to your audiobook about the
Roosevelt Panama Canal scandal.
(wish you hadn’t heard it, wish Roosevelt could remain the king of conservation you’ve admired atop
Mt. Rushmore, glasses, grin, and all)
you can find yourself at 5 a.m.
piled under papers and planning,
sleep surrendered to 4-prep stress,
solace comes from pre-dawn accomplishments.
(the door clicks open at 5:30.
before the secretary can check you in.
before breakfast lunch carts arrive,
and hundreds of hungry hands hanker for your time)
you can start a day at 5 a.m.
it will be inundated with a quagmire of mother’s guilt and teacher’s helplessness,
all because of a shuttered door.
Popcorn
my voice is hoarse from a discussion–
vibrant questions popping up all around,
a cacophony of comments
reaching full engagement
it makes me remember why
why i wake at 4:44,
why i’ve given up weekends,
why i plan all summer
and come home each day
ready to drop dead from
an exhaustion so deep
it reaches into my soul
“this is a great topic, Miss.”
“what a question–so hard to answer.”
“today i actually like this class.”
today i actually like my job.
because those early hours,
lost weekends, lack of summer break,
they all pop up around me,
a cacophony of opportunity
to be the teacher i strive to be
Searching for Kinder Eyes
walk beneath my blue sky
kids joke and whine, just like mine
and meet the kinders
bright-eyed, on the rug
so excited to see us
they only have hope
i wish they’d share it
with my downtrodden walkers
who lose it daily
Wordsmith
Tuesday blues bite hard
bad choices all around me
and no good advice
i wish i had words
to erase the ones i said
but it’s so hard to
girls treated that way
burns the blood in mama’s veins
and i won’t take it
to come home to lies
harsh words with my own daughter
whom i live to save
i need a true rest
a moment of clarity
free from vicious words
Step Write Up 