kids are bonkers

I am absolutely exhausted. Too tired to write a lot.

But I did just want to say that kids are bonkers,

Like certifiably mad. No word or a lie,

I had one (that wasn’t in my class)

Run into the room and complete a lap

In his swimming goggles and outside jacket,

He grabbed my roll of blue roll, and ran,

A stream of blue paper fluttering behind

As he disappeared into the throngs

Of other nutty children, egging him on.

staff room moments

red coffee kettle and red ceramic cups
Photo by Lucas Pezeta on

We sat together on the sagging chairs,

Faded blue with years of window sun.

His leg would move, touching mine, as we ate

Muffins, croissants, birthday cakes,

The sound of teenage shrieks, floating

On the summer air, with the thudding

Of footballs slammed against the painted wall.

He brushes crumbs that feathered both our laps,

So innocent, but also really not.

Another teacher hums a tuneless tune,

As the kettle screams, and steams,

Unaware that in our corner, on those chairs

Stained with tea and deep blue boredom,

A moment’s passed between two colleagues,

The start of something vast and wide,

Far too high to climb, it’s love.