The streets are not the same
but they still echo with the memory
of our steps.
I still hear your laughter
as we held hands and ran through the rain.
Ever after, I hummed Neil Sedaka on that street
and contemplated surrealism.
Decades later,
I can still hear our laughter.
The mark was missed
the complications overwhelmed the need
for simplicity
and now the resulting confusion
obliterates the good intentions and the message
that she thought was being conveyed.
The arrow did not hit the target;
it is quivering in a tree several feet away,
but at least it’s not in anyone’s
back.
The idea
like a shy child
peeks from around a corner
hoping you will notice it.
If you’re too busy to pay attention
it fades away and you are left
trying to find the picture you can’t
quite bring to mind.
.
.
.
Twice this morning, while busy with something else, an idea fluttered up. Twice I thought, “Oh! That’s good. I must remember that!” and twice it disappeared into the ether. Darn. Darn.
Baby birds
peeping in the road
calling for dinner–all mouths
few feathers
Watch for cats!
You’re right there
but you’re gone.
Imagining the future without you
takes magic out of the world
silences our laughter
slices out our hearts.
You’re right here,
but you’re gone.
Lost to us
at great cost to us
There isn’t enough chocolate* in the world
to assuage this agony, unrelenting.
You’re right here,
but our story is ending.
.
.
.
My colleagues and I are grieving the loss of a great leader. We will go on with the new again, of course. But sometimes, before you pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and pull it together, you need to wallow for a while in the emotions you’re feeling. Loss is painful. Change is scary. We’ll get through it, but accepting the grief is healthy, too.
*some people may wish to substitute a beverage, shoes, or other favoured ‘pick me up.’
secretly
you scribble,
hiding words,
worshipping
silently.
.
.
.
So many kids constantly writing, but not handing in their work! Arg!
We are flexible and contented
We dance in the halls and laugh in the staff room
We inspire and challenge, stretch and strive.
We welcome opportunity to grow and improve
with new members to our team.
But.
leadership must embrace our joy. We have a culture of YES.
We ask “how can we…?” Not “Can we?”
Today, we’re afraid.
.
But
we wonder how can we
make this change create even greater opportunities for our kids.
We’re nestled here between the hills
protected from the harsh winds
warm and basking by the lake.
But you are bored,
you’re ready to escape,
to see what lies beyond the valley
and so we wave farewell
knowing after adventure,
home calls the blood.
Airborne tanks strafe the window,
humming engines,
peppering thunks as they run their
Kamikaze missions:
June bugs crazed by light.
.
.
.
(It can be kind of scary late a night while I’m working at the computer!)
Shawn L. Bird 