a bright weekday start
erases urban setting
with bike paths and barns
stress
Trapped
the parent’s dilemma:
restrict further to protect
or cause more sneaking?
Spring Blues
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










