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Hiding Under My 3rd Grade Desk
David J Walker 

Mrs. Pollards smile 
Was enough to reassure every member
Of her third-grade class 

That their world was secure 
As the crass voice in the 
Crackling PA speaker announced 

An End of the World Drill in the
Middle of the day

Usually, a call to quietly line up 
And make an orderly march to 
The hallway where we would 

Stay crouched in a fetal position 
Until the voice returned to sound
The all-clear

But this time was different
This time it was 
Duck & Cover under your desk
	Was the end really that near?

Were the bombs about to fall
On Thatcher Elementary in
Pueblo, Colorado?

Did the commies hate us so much 
They would rain down missiles 
On our playground?

Not today! 
	Not when It was my turn
To pick sides for Kickball
A girl named Diane with blonde curls
Beside me talk about a sack lunch

And tetherball
And a game of Jax if the 
Hopscotch courts were full

Would the bombs blast the whole
Building away 
Leaving us huddled under our desks
Before recess?

Would we walk home among craters
Created by Commie planes coming

Over the artic just to find us while
Reciting the rhythm 
Of the Times table

The Social Studies lesson was
About the Pilgrims and how we 
Should be thankful for freedom 

In science we were learning 
About the moon and how soon
Someday we would get there

If they drop the bomb could we 
Still watch cartoons at 4 in the afternoon

Would there be anything left of the
Playground at Mineral Palace Park

And what about the swans that
Make their home on the park lake

How long are we supposed to 
Stay under these desks I whispered
To Mark 

I don’t know he said
As Mrs. Pollard shushed us 

As we hid and waited for
The all-clear

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