The Old Teacher

Jinny May

Jinny May

She tries to speak
but words won’t come
her frustration expressed
in the wringing of her hands
swollen red with worrying
`til finally she gives up
on seeking words

Retires to staring
out the studio window
where the little children
wait to cross at the crosswalk
going home after school
back`packs crammed
full with learning

Knows fully well
the spelling of words
the grammar the syntax
all hers from years of teaching
now totally inexpressible
A cat’s got her tongue
`n won’t let it go

“The stars know everything,
So we try to read their minds.
As distant as they are,
We choose to whisper in their presence.” ~ Charles Simic

[A Voice for the Voiceless]


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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5 Responses to The Old Teacher

  1. a compassionate summation of aphasia…


  2. too many schoolyears of teachin’
    or too many Sundays of preachin’
    can leave one without any speechin’

    Liked by 1 person

  3. what will we do when we lose our voice?


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