MS. MARGERY’S LAST DAY
- Oct 6
- 1 min read
Updated: Oct 16
By David Rosenthal
She walked slowly and smiled an easy smile –
the one her new neighbors would come to know
her by. She had her students color, while
she packed some things and let the minutes go.
She shirked recess duty to take a bunch
of boxes to the car, and took her time
enjoying something nice she’d made for lunch,
alone inside her room, door locked, sublime
quiet and solitude for just one day
out of five thousand plus. It made her late
to pick her class up from the yard. The way
she let them play and talk, and made them wait
for her, as she stood watching from the door,
felt like something she’d never done before.
David Rosenthal is a public school teacher in Berkeley, California. His poems and translations have appeared in Rattle, HAD, Rust & Moth, Birmingham Poetry Review, Eclectica Magazine, Teachers & Writers Magazine, Measure, and many other journals. He has been a Howard Nemerov Sonnet Award Finalist and a Pushcart Prize Nominee. His collection, The Wild Geography of Misplaced Things, was published by White Violet Press (Kelsay Books).
