Idyllic Reboot

a bright weekday start
 erases urban setting
 with bike paths and barns
 
 

Trapped

the parent’s dilemma:
 restrict further to protect
 or cause more sneaking?
 
 
 

Spring Blues

snow carries in spring
 between white petals and flakes
 baby blue returns
 
 they’re slightly off tune
 surrounded by perfection
 like flowers blooming
 
 not quite ready yet
 for the season to push through
 bursting in the sun
 
 but they’re mine, all mine
 smiles and chases and love
 bursting through the blue
 

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
 
 
 

Spiraling into Control

after a draining day
 with back talk on all fronts
 i just want to laugh it up
 at a simple game
 between a spiral and a kitten
 to spin my mood back
 
 

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
 
 
 

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
 
 

Trailing

more than thirty-three miles
 too long for these sedentary legs
 trying to race the sun
 trying to find my way home
 
 with little headwind and my blue-sky view
 Pandora playlist popping me along
 everything should be perfect
 everything should be all right
 
 but rejection trails behind tire spins
 blocking my perfect peak view
 making me regret it again, again
 making me wish i never left
 
 what is it about me that they hate?
 that is the constant question i ask
 trying to find February sun
 trying to be the me they want