Closed classroom

When it began, I was just a timid girl with the weight of the classroom around me. Foreign faces and loud voices. I clearly couldn’t open up here. But your projects were interesting, Mrs. J, and you gave me a mission. I ran into the classroom the next morning with new ideas, and we tested them out with experiments. Science was a dose of therapy; a curious mystery. Sometimes I could sit on the lab stool and forget about the world while pipetting samples. Once my heart beat fast while awaiting the sugar cube experiment. We had a mission, professor, and we had energy. We bounced ideas; there were no dumb questions. The school was a haven. And this classroom; once apprehensive and full of uncertainty, became a fun backyard.

But then then the funding waned, and the project ended. And the season was over.

Seeing this once energetic hub now with empty seats and scattered papers gave me a sinking feeling. And then to see you, professor, with your look so timid and your voice subdued; I got the feeling that this is the end.
This is what the end feels like–
a sinking feeling,
a closed classroom.

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Noori

There’s a beautiful bird out in a forest. She flies her little wings up and down the hilly terrain near the glistening, cold Himalayas. They refer to her as Noori; this beautiful, colorful bird. On rare occasions they get a glimpse of her striking beauty. Yet always, they hear her tweeting her silly, sweet songs to herself. Tunes that echo across mountains, resonate through valleys, and penetrate through souls.

She makes me cry, this little bird.
I’d sacrifice a limb for her. I’d die for her.

There’s a little bird that sings her sweet songs in a forest. Her innocence is what lovers fall for. Her beauty is what poets write of.

Including one,

who is my father.

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The everything in little things

Too busy making plans right now.
There will come a day when little things will be vocalized like they’re a big deal
Like telling the other that the fireplace needs new wood
Or asking if the grass is cut, or what time a regularly watched TV show will air.
Two elderly couple, friends with each other.
When one’s gone,
There will be aloneness while sitting on a rock, looking at some man-made pond near the nursing home. That will be the highlight of the day.
Too busy making plans right now,
There’ll be a day when little things will mean everything.

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