“On a Friday in April”

After Class“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.


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