First Grade Classroom in March

Whatever's caught inside wanting out, as a sound
is stuttered before the word's pronounced.

How could I console? What promises would keep?
To find the sums, you need to add.

They bend over their papers, counting on me.
Someone's milk money rolls up the aisle, round and
     around.

We lean forward in our seats and wish for it:
Be smooth and shine. Be found.
 
— Jody Zorgdrager, author of Of Consequence


This poem is offered as part of our March theme: The Ode

All poems, art, and photos are public domain, creative commons, or used by permission of author or publisher. The Backwaters Press, 2008. Photo by Paul H, via Flickr.
Artist Debbie Young


Art by Gail Nadeau

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