Just Another Slap in the Face
I got home late
today,
fatigue dripping
from my shoulders
like a backpack
slipping to the floor.
I leave it on a hook
in the closet
along with my jacket,
so happy to forget
about the quarrel
I’d had with my fourth-
block kids.
I’d taken them outside
for Journal Writing,
the weather summer nice.
But several of them
decided to take advantage
of the opportunity
to stay out, enjoy the sun,
after I said it was time
to head back inside.
They tiptoed
into the classroom
late, eyes big,
knowing they were
in trouble,
knowing they’d
let me down,
knowing I’d never trust
them again.
Finally, I was home,
time to relax,
write a poem,
blog,
and check the mail
for a letter.
But what was in there?
A bill from
Public Service of NH.
12 comments:
You've shown that life happens - and it can be poetic. Yum!
Great image - fatigue dripping...
Nice work and a good twist at the end!
i really enjoy your story poems :)
liked fatigue dripping/backpack nice...
More great words - and turning life into poetry is what it's all about.
A fatigue dripping slap, perhaps!
Love the sound of 'fatigue dripping'
Like everyone else, love the idea of sloughing off your day like a backpack and hanging it out of sight. Very original use of the words this week.
Nice gritty bit of reality.
Great opening image and line.
I love how you spin an ordinary day into something poetic.
love it when u take us into your world like this.
teaching sounds very exhausting! :)
I so enjoyed reading this, esp. the way you treat 'fatigue'. Lovely.
excellent elevated journal entry-
very good visual: the day's cares
shrugged off like a back pack.
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