As the start of school was nearing, I was agitated, tense.
My progress on the clearing of my papers had been slow.
And panic was my shadow in my waking and my dreams,
As forty years of teaching turned to torture, more and more.
I walked towards the sea at dusk and halted, at a crossing,
From where I saw the ocean as a darkness in the distance.
And there, as colors changed upon the traffic lights, suspended,
I stood and watched the airplanes fly across the western sky.
I saw their wing-lights blinking as they arced towards the north,
And I watched the sky-hues draining as the daylight slowly ebbed.
And when the streets had darkened and the trees had lost their green,
I wandered slowly homewards, feeling slightly more serene.
The drivers that were passing might have seen me standing there,
As I stood and looked to westward, at that ever-changing show.
But I doubt that they suspected I was drinking of the stuff
That could turn a mind that’s racing towards a state of healing, slow.
2014 August 26th, Tue. 8:23 pm Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, New York