First thought upon waking–
elation.
With consciousness–
crash.
Tuesday.
.
Pandemic tension
daily trauma
viral hide and seek
Trench warfare,
wearing us down.
Dreaming of weekend leave,
Before the return to mud.
poem-pity November 23, 2020
Like Red Rose Tea:
only in Canada?
confused identity.
Reindeer
are just caribou.
Who knew?
poem- we turned on the Christmas lights November 22, 2020
The dog stares mesmerized
past the old bulbs wrapped around the blue spruce, those steady, dependable glass bulbs that have illuminated twenty Christmases,
to the lilac bushes where the new micro-bulbs change from white to colour, fade, flash, flicker, urge us to celebrate with their “Party on!” dance,
but this year, putting them out
used all the energy we have,
and there’s no irony in the number of blue bulb strings wrapped and draped around the door.
poem- speak November 20, 2020
Speak your future
Say what you will be.
In moments of self-nurture,
Trust in your destiny.
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A little reflection based on some observation in a Zoom presentation for Professional Development from indigenous author Monique Gray Smith.
poem- before the diagnosis November 19, 2020
I already knew.
In the photos
her smile flounders
before it finds her eyes.
She is missing,
though her body
moves, leaves the kettle
to boil dry, starts something
for dinner, while the last
idea burns.
poem- feeling beachy November 18, 2020
Crashing waves
Splashing children
Deep thinking trickles like sand
I’m seeking peace:
waves wash over me.
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.
.
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Demo cinquain poem for class today. Kids chose theme of beach, and I wrote a line with a different poetic device in each: alliteration, assonance, consonance, onomatopoeia, internal rhyme. Turns out, it sounds better in reverse, so that’s the version you see here.
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poem- staggering November 17, 2020
when the students have left,
around the building:
faces crease with concern
bodies droop with fatigue
eyes anguished.
How long can the facade hold
when everyone’s
barely upright?
poem-overwhelmed November 16, 2020
just one day
I just need to be ready
for today
I can only plan
a step at a time
I can only plan
for today
I just need to be ready
just one day.
.
.
.
.
(Feeling just a little overwhelmed to be starting back full-time after 2 years of partial medical leave. I’d hoped to have all prep done for the next 10 weeks, but all I have completely ready to go is this week. Well. Just tomorrow, actually! 
).
poem-heavenly November 15, 2020
It should be dark.
The sun is down.
Moon glow illuminates
a snow glazed world.
Silent night.
Holy light.
Shawn L. Bird 