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THE KINGFISHER

The Kingfisher. This morning we are doing long division. Yesterday was for freedom. Long division is for today. Yesterdays kingfisher is for tomorrow because Long division will not wait. Brilliant feathers gleaming in sunlight. He darted; swooped for a fish. My pencil is short, broken; chewed. A shining writhing minnow; tiny. Tiny, without a chance. Sunbeams stream through high narrow windows, Where feathered tree -tops waver. Why are they so high? When did we do short division Miss? Sharpen pencils for today's long division. Wrong means rapped fingers. Yesterdays brook rippled like warm silk across my fingers. He is out there swooping and diving. Whilst long division is what we are doing in here today. When did we do short division Miss? Brown classroom; awash with ink stained desks. Scabbed knees tucked, doing long division, as Bird sounds pour through high narrow windows. Why are they so high? Sunbeams sprinkled yesterday's brook with magic. Eyes are down for long division today. Shouldn't short division come first Miss? Birdsong streams through high narrow windows. Why are they so high? Today we are doing long – very long division. Catherine Wilson 9-3-2018

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Date: 7/2/2018 4:18:00 PM
Hi Catherine.. Welcome to Poetry Soup! You're going to love it here. Read and comment on others poets writes and they will do the same for you. Take a minute to come check out my latest write. Looking forward to reading more of your work!
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