Bad Hair Day

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My teacher is having a bad hair day.

We probably won't get to go out and play.

We'll have to stay in and do work instead.

I wish that I had just stayed home in bed.

Teachers should come with two sets of hair.

When one is bad, they could put on a spare.

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​

The Children and I

September 11, 2001

​

It ​was current events time

so we watched the morning news,

the children and I,

not really believing

what we saw.

"The building is falling."

"The people are running."

Sophia began to cry,

and Ryan crawled under the table,

rocking softly back and forth.

I watched in horror

until I came to my senses.

I turned off the news

and pulled a smile

out of my broken heart.

"We're safe," I said.

"It's far, far away,"

not really knowing

if I was telling the truth.

We had watched the news,

the children and I,

and our lives

had changed forever.

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​

Distraction

​

Outside the winter sky is gray and low.

The swings are slightly moving to and fro.

An empty playground calls my name,

over and over, always the same.

Teacher, can't you hear it say,

"I'm lonely. Please come out and play."

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​

I Hear Winter Talking

​

Yesterday the sun was bright.

Cold only tipped the edges of the air,

enough to let me know that it was there.

​

Today the sky is low and gray.

The cold has teeth that bite my cheeks,

to make me hear when winter speaks.

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​

The Teacher

​

The teacher

said to the students,

"Come to the edge."

They replied, "We might fall."

​

The teacher again said,

"Come to the edge,"

and they responded,

"It's too high."

​

"Come to the edge,"

the teacher demanded.

​

They came, 

and the teacher pushed them,

and they

FLEW!

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​

Haiku

​

the teacher rewound

the squeaky old projector

and jangled our thoughts

​

​

"please write a haiku"

"we don't want to write haiku"

we wrote a haiku

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