anotherfacet

I'm awake behind closed eyes
noting the whooshing sounds
of far away freeway noise
    (at 2 in the morning? seriously?)
and a howling, train-whistly
cry rises in the distance
through my open night window.
The coyotes are stirring, too.

The Psalmist David writes
of being awake through the
watches of the night
and I wonder if he lay there
with thoughts of
four year olds and beanbags
and paint smocks.
Tossed and turned about
lunch schedules and potty breaks
and keeping the floors clean from playdoh.

No. Probably not.

A modern Psalmist, I worry now
about forms and paperwork,
cramming art supplies
onto too small shelves
and where is our broom?
I forgot to break down all
the boxes we unpacked.
And my meet and greet
conferences with the 4 year old parents
will have me running day and night
this week....

All those children know is there will be
games to play and balls to bounce,
paint to drip and splatter
and friends to meet (and maybe hug).
They'll wonder about meeting the
New Teacher (moi),
but I'm guessing…