Coffee is bitter
fuel that brings a sweetness,
lifting my spirits.
Empty hanging file
folders, holding only the
hope of less clutter.
Thoughts race like subways,
beneath the surface, unseen,
clacking and rumbling.
White earbuds are in,
and the student enjoys his
classroom solitude.
Pen held in mid-air,
like an antenna waiting
for any signal.
Low hum of the air
exchanger--a respite from
endless teacher talk.
A teacher’s day ends
with smears of marker on her
arms, and tired eyes.
Stacks of papers, and
hours of work--at least it
appears organized.
Sadness is a gray
day, nothing more. Wait
for weather to change.
Anger, the devil
you know, can transform with some
simple kindnesses.
