Last Day - unedited
i parked illegally in a teacher's spot;
i didn't care, it's my last day.
last time to break the rules.
i walk, cut through fog thick on my face
it's always colder on the lake.
students sit, sip coffee on benches
talk on phones, laugh- a day like any other.
stepping softly to class, early
i breathe in lakefront air, mist
i swing open the door, i've opened countless
times before-
the sound of footsteps, churchbells
on metal steps, 3 stories high
i'm still out of breath.
i sit through woolf, eliot,
one last gasp of rich literature.
i slink out of my chair at the end of the hour
sip the last of my daily juice, a ritual
i began with the vending machine
years and years ago.
i saw things so different then-
the buildings were just buildings at 18
and 19 too. 20 they came alive with
newstories published on my newsprint
17,000 eyes looked upon my name
at 21, the trees sang to me
and lying on grassy hills, cloud watching
daydreaming into 22. I'm in love with love
and the literature of love, courtly love
troubadours, Donne poetry, Shakespeare
Women's Rights! Shouting!
23 and fat with knowledge, I thought I knew everything
sitting in that Hemmingway class,
longing for rootlessness, and even now;
the Sun also Rose, and Malcolm died.
the kid in the back of my class
the youth never confront their mortality.
today, one more Milton lecture...
...yawns...daydreaming out a dirty window
the unkept courtyard, my secret garden
that grew and grew, as I grew and grew
walking down the English hallway
peeking into offices, waving hello
wondering if I'd ever be free of this place...
I walked down one more time
hugged my mentor, waved to Doll
chatted with Schock about Shelley, Browning, life, Austin...
and walked out one last time,
my pomp and circumstance
hooded sweatshirt as my cap, black pants as my gown
rebelling againt the administration one last time
one last editorial
one last illegally parked car
one last glance through the misty, November day
one last day
one very last day.
"And as she closed the door to LA rm 108 behind her one last time, taking one last glance at the courtyard, the amber, fall leaves already covering most of the ground, she exhaled into the crisp, cool, winter air, and stepped away from her university, a graduate."
i parked illegally in a teacher's spot;
i didn't care, it's my last day.
last time to break the rules.
i walk, cut through fog thick on my face
it's always colder on the lake.
students sit, sip coffee on benches
talk on phones, laugh- a day like any other.
stepping softly to class, early
i breathe in lakefront air, mist
i swing open the door, i've opened countless
times before-
the sound of footsteps, churchbells
on metal steps, 3 stories high
i'm still out of breath.
i sit through woolf, eliot,
one last gasp of rich literature.
i slink out of my chair at the end of the hour
sip the last of my daily juice, a ritual
i began with the vending machine
years and years ago.
i saw things so different then-
the buildings were just buildings at 18
and 19 too. 20 they came alive with
newstories published on my newsprint
17,000 eyes looked upon my name
at 21, the trees sang to me
and lying on grassy hills, cloud watching
daydreaming into 22. I'm in love with love
and the literature of love, courtly love
troubadours, Donne poetry, Shakespeare
Women's Rights! Shouting!
23 and fat with knowledge, I thought I knew everything
sitting in that Hemmingway class,
longing for rootlessness, and even now;
the Sun also Rose, and Malcolm died.
the kid in the back of my class
the youth never confront their mortality.
today, one more Milton lecture...
...yawns...daydreaming out a dirty window
the unkept courtyard, my secret garden
that grew and grew, as I grew and grew
walking down the English hallway
peeking into offices, waving hello
wondering if I'd ever be free of this place...
I walked down one more time
hugged my mentor, waved to Doll
chatted with Schock about Shelley, Browning, life, Austin...
and walked out one last time,
my pomp and circumstance
hooded sweatshirt as my cap, black pants as my gown
rebelling againt the administration one last time
one last editorial
one last illegally parked car
one last glance through the misty, November day
one last day
one very last day.
"And as she closed the door to LA rm 108 behind her one last time, taking one last glance at the courtyard, the amber, fall leaves already covering most of the ground, she exhaled into the crisp, cool, winter air, and stepped away from her university, a graduate."
Borrowed Sweater
i pull too much on it's sleeves.
wool worned cuffs and pilled arms,
it's not even that old.
it smells so young, anyway.
a faint reminder of perfume...
soft fuzz rubbed rough
it barely keeps me warm now.
i tug it to cover me
and hide away from the world.
i pull too much on it's sleeves.
wool worned cuffs and pilled arms,
it's not even that old.
it smells so young, anyway.
a faint reminder of perfume...
soft fuzz rubbed rough
it barely keeps me warm now.
i tug it to cover me
and hide away from the world.