Bailey's Moon

No world wide trip

or big house with a large tub.

The kid’s pool has patches

and the yard looks like hell.

Yet, I try to tap out a few words

in the low moonlight

hoping that some day I can

just give you more.

And just when I feel I have lost

when my shoulders slump.

You, my angel, my wonderful,

say “I love you.”

Those words hold belief and strength.

I roll my shoulders and sigh,

cinch the knot and ready the rope.

Swirling it, I go to lasso Bailey’s Moon.

To Heidi, for 21 years and more.

In The Box

In the box is

                  a few books, some files,

                                    a pen and some pencils;

                  There’s a coffee cup,

                                    one of many throughout the years;

                  some odds and ends,

                                    a half empty aspirin bottle

                  and a bag of M & Ms of an unknown year,

                                                      A copy of a test from long ago

                                    and a few photos.

But also in the box

                   is a legacy of teaching.

Yes, inside is a trail of headaches,

                  sighs, budget cuts, drop outs,

                                    sick days and missing staff.

But , deep inside are

                  the  faces of many students and teachers,

                                    smiling, enriched, going forward

                  because you gave a damn about them.

There’s

                  the high fives of the kids who finally got it;

                                    the hugs from the kids that needed a hero;

the thanks of fellow teachers  who needed a

shoulder, mentor and coach;

                  and the nodding smile of a principal

                                    knowing your legacy for the school.

The box is quite full,

                  overflowing with your triumph of being

                                    all a teacher can be.