“On a Friday in April”
Chalk and dust motes filter through air-conditioned atmosphere.
Rumbling footsteps thunder out into the sunlight
Laughter rings, engines growl and fade away.
Orange plastic chairs bloom in rows–
a tidy, barren garden.
Outside, a robin hurls protests against single-pane windows.
I silence the drone of fluorescent lights with a click,
peel back winking blinds,
and sink into the soft shadows of my empty classroom.