Black Mud, Grey Ash
The water struck
and wiped a village
from the earth
A dreamland of golden wheat
gone in a single thunder
Trees stand empty
forgetting the lovers
under their shade
Silence waltzes
through the lanes
with destruction’s tune
Bangles
schoolbags
a lone flute
now ash
on the wind
And photos
hold our lives
breathing
in black mud
My desk was constructed of
genuine wood, with seat attached.
No, not movable as they are today.
Highly polished with an ink
well, as we used fountain pens!
Books? You lifted the top
and in they went.
We had leather schoolbags
that went below.
Later, when I was a teacher,
they were light as you see today.
Since I taught in the wildest schools,
misbehaving pupils used them in
fights,not for play!
At these times, chairs became objects
of flight.
To the students' joyous delight.
I'd dream of the days of yore!
When children were well-behaved and had
morals that counted ever so much more.
And desks were nailed firmly to the floor!
4/19/2021
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