Poem: September 7, 2021

Maintaining

Some people won’t 

straighten their desks

at the end of the day, 

but I do, most days,

and I sweep the floor 

as well, ten to twelve

minutes weaving 

among the furniture,

picking up the dust and crumbles, 

the discarded gum wrappers,

the orange pencil shavings, 

the grass from the ball field, 

whatever might have

fallen behind. 

I’m finding and taking

these broken bits of day 

and making it clear that they 

have no place here tomorrow. 

I am erasing, creating 

a clean slate. 

This is my quiet way 

of saying we all matter- 

the students, the custodians, me. 

We all deserve a clean space-

a place we escape,

a place to rest, 

a place to breathe and

a place to start.