Dec 15


Not again.

Three cases in my tiny school.
From where, from who? Who knows?
And yet it's clear that for this year
That's the last I'll see those folks.

Did I look them in the eye
As I asked about their day?
Did I expand my circle, be inclusive all the way?
Was there anything I should have done
That somehow failed my conscience?
Those precious moments,
flesh and blood,
I never want to botch it. 
They're far too precious,
Far too few.
How dare I let it slip?
And from my cracking voice I say,
"Really? That is it?"

The sadness creeps along my back.
It's tasted in my throat.
The gulp of harsh reality 
Makes a face to gloat.

Look now your cocky pride befalls,
Your granted treasure shattered,
Your smile bent unto a line
As you hope you did what mattered.
About the Author: Treblemaker
I write because the music of language spoke to me in books and I wanted to make a beautiful noise to answer back ~ Lee Williams.