Teacher

Sometimes there's gravel on the bend

by Vernondale's Store in North Sutton.

I've learned to watch for that,

and for the German Shepherd

who lies in the road

at the foot of his master's drive.

I've seen the farm market signs

change with the weather: Potatoes,

to Pumpkins, to Firewood: Inquire Within.

My students have stayed the same.

They still cut class to go skiing,

or fix their cars,

and they continue to write:

. . his flowing mane and proud bearing

are timeless symbols of the pure blood

coursing through his royal veins. . . .

Today the marsh is white with ice.

The reeds look brittle and defeated.

While I was at work

someone covered the three poplars

by that cottage porch; wrapped them

in canvas against ice and wind,

then cinched the canvas with ropes,

making waists for the three lithe caryatids,

who seem to be holding up the roof

while they wait for April thaw... .