GROWN UP

Never again will you fall asleep across my chest on a Sunday afternoon.

Never again will I break off pieces of a bagel and feed you in the park.

Never again will I run bath water for you or wrap you in a towel.

Never again will you hide at the end of the sofa and shout, “Here I are!”

Never again will I carry you inside the house from the backseat of the car,

Never again will we stand in the store deciding which Hot Wheels to buy.

Never again will you want a kiss on your forehead as you fall off to sleep.

Never again will you call out in the night because you’re afraid of Orcs.

Never again will you choose the left hand or right hand for a piece of candy.

Never again will we walk to our table in the diner with my arm around you.

Never again will we drive to the farm to look at baby pigs and little lambs.

Never again will you ask me the name of flowers, birds, and other animals.

Never again will we listen to the same songs or share the same music.

Never again will you dress up as a pirate, a cowboy, or a warrior.

Never again will you sing Go Tell It on the Mountain at the top of your lungs.

Never again will I buy you plastic ninja swords from the Dollar Store.

Never again will we play army men on the floor or Lego Racers.

Never again will we share Cracker Jack and cotton candy at the circus.

Never again will you ask for a glass of water before going to bed.

Never again will you choose a new Pez dispenser at the grocery store.

Never again will we lie alongside each other and take turns reading.

Never again will I draw a happy face or a soccer ball on your lunch bag.

Never again will I put your clothes out for you on the edge of your bed.

Never again will you say to me, “Hey Dad, hold me like a baby”.

DON'T WORRY ABOUT THE MONEY

I think of where you will go in four years.

I can see you opening up fancy envelopes

in the kitchen with your nervous hands.

I will tell you not to settle, go where you want

and don’t worry about the money, you’ll have

a whole lifetime to deal with these concerns.

I imagine us walking with you across the

campus of the school you dreamed about.

We’ll go to the college bookstore to buy a new

sweatshirt, a hat for me, a coffee mug for Mom.

WATCH OUR EAGLES FLY

He wore his Eagles ties, played the fight song

on the computer, sang loudly, danced around

wearing a plastic bald eagle Halloween mask.

His students laughed, clapped, jumped out of

their seats, strange to see a teacher being just

as foolish as a kid about his favorite football team.

Out of breath, a promise was made to the class-

if they win on Sunday, no homework on Monday.

Instantly the Eagles gained 23 diehard fans, even

the little Giants and Cowboys kids rooted for Philly.

Watching every game, cheering on the outcome.

They bought green folders, notebooks and t-shirts.

A season to remember as they kept winning and

made it to the playoffs, then onto the Super Bowl.

If they win the whole thing, he promised to bring in

a Carvel ice cream cake to celebrate. On Monday,

the children did not look him in the eye as they knew

he must be hurting because of their team’s defeat.

Silently they ate the cake, brought in by the boy,

from the back, who wore his Patriots jersey on Monday.

Like a wake for an old uncle, they remembered the fun

of winning and took away the pain with each spoonful.

THE ART TEACHER

Today, it’s snowing outside his classroom window,

it all feels like some kind of April Fool’s Day joke.

He thinks of those comparisons to Andrew Wyeth,

his use of light and shadows to illuminate the canvas.

All of that, hidden now in the back of the closet behind

bins of old cassette tapes and Christmas decorations.

It bothers him most when he sits in this place all alone,

without his noisy students, his few friends, or his family.

He dreamed of studying in London, Paris, Barcelona,

but ended up back here, where he started 25 years ago.

Surrounded by Mr. Sketch scented markers, crayons,

paper mache, watercolor projects, green modeling clay.

Posters of the Great Ones hang around the room to

provide background on Dali, Cassatt, Kahlo, and Escher.

As a young man, he’d point at them and tell his teacher-

One day you can hang my picture on the wall with them.

PHOTO ALBUM

“The present contains nothing more than the past,

and what is found in the effect was already in the cause.”

-Henri Bergson

How pitiful and scared they both looked.

Two teenagers cutting a wedding cake,

staring into a camera surrounded by gifts.

Him- tall, wiry, baby faced. Her- with a fancy

60’s hairstyle, belly the size of a basketball.

And with the flashcube’s blast, a complicated

chain reaction overwhelmed the three of them.

Nobody could have told them how cruel it would

be once the dominoes begin to fall or how they

continue on, faster and in so many directions.

Sometimes he thinks of what it’d be like, if-

he never happened, if- he’d never been born.

“They must’ve loved you enough to go through

with it, many girls back then didn’t follow through,

if you know what I mean”, a lady at work said once.

POSTCARD TO AN OLD FRIEND

Myles,
Drove by the old place the other day,
looks like somebody finally bought it.
Wonder if they know about flooding?
Life "on the banks of the Ol’ Raritan"!
Thought of you on St. Patrick’s Day,
realized it’s been a while since we spoke.
Worried about your health, let us know you’re ok.
Wish we were there! All the best, your friend- L.L.

SAFE CORNER

How did I get here? and

I went to college for this?
is what came to mind today
as we crouched in the corner,
lights out, windows closed,
shades drawn, sign on floor, door locked.
This is a drill required by the State,
because of what happened in other places.
You saw the news, Columbine, Virginia Tech.

We’ll get creative in coming months,
making code words, what if plans for
rabid dogs, a gas leak, a wandering black bear,
a disgruntled employee, an irate parent-
practicing for the worst of all case scenarios,
the active shooter.

It was much easier when I was growing up,
all we worried about was nuclear annihilation.
Not much you could do about that.
We joked about evacuations, the absurdity of
crouching under a desk and covering your head.

My kids don’t say they’re nervous or scared.
But they ask me-
“What would happen if it were real?
What would happen if some
crazy guy with a gun came into
our room and tried to get us all?”

Well, I suppose I’d beat him senseless with a little green chair.
And because we can laugh together, we know we’ll be all right.

(Photo taken from-
http://www.retroland.com)