What Does a Teacher Do on a "Dangerously Cold Windchills" Day Off?

What Does a Teacher Do on a "Dangerously Cold Windchills" Day Off?

I'm up early.
The house is quiet
except for the tick and clong
of two old clocks
that are impossible to synchronize.

At my end of the couch,
I am surrounded in a bubble of warm light.
My tea steams.
I finish a book I've been meaning to read,
then flip open my computer to read blogs
and Tweet new learning.

I nearly freeze driving to school
to feed the fish
but at least the car is warm when we go out to lunch.

I set the timer and write for forty-five minutes,
just like I'll ask my students to
next time we meet.
(Tomorrow? Next week?)

I plan a writing lesson,
what we'll do next with division,
and I'll play around with a photo.
(Again, just like I'll ask my students to.)

Later, I'll go to my water aerobics class
--BRRRR--

After dinner,
I'll watch a little TV.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

The Verdict

THE VERDICT

Standing at the open door
scenting the harshly cold
slightly smoky air
he leans toward the porch
then abruptly turns away
walks to the kitchen
checks his bowl
heads for the blanket
he'll be curled on
until past noon.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014



Our William is a rescue cat who knows something good when he's got it.

Snow Day!

SNOW DAY!

Across the planet
all the way down under,
children there
are enjoying summer.

They frolic in sand
with happy bare feet,
while I trudge through snow
so cold that it squeaks.

Their sky is blue.
My sky is grey.
But we've both got no school --
let's go out and play!

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

Winter Moonlight

WINTER MOONLIGHT

sifts through bare trees
skims the empty street
skips ahead of bitter breezes
drifts where shadows meet

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

Audubon Metro Park

AUDUBON METRO PARK

The sun -- a low-hanging smudge.
The pond -- a layer of ice over mud.

A movement under the ice -- a darker oval.
A late afternoon surprise -- a winter turtle.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015

Expectantly

EXPECTANTLY

Next to the lamp, an
Open book and a steaming cup of
Tea.
In the chair, she sits with
Closed eyes, listening
Expectantly.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015


My One Little Word for 2015 is NOTICE. In this poem, I prepare myself for whatever 2015 will bring!

Tricia has the first Poetry Friday roundup of the year at The Miss Rumphius Effect.

Premonition

from Wikimedia Commons

PREMONITION

Why do I get the feeling
that the ticking of the clock
is actually
the roller coaster car of my life
ratcheting toward the first
unseen
stomach-dropping
plummet
of the new year?

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Sisters

someone to talk to

someone to worry about

the house is empty

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Mom's cats have been her companions since my dad died. We said goodbye to Princess today. She is likely racing around like a crazy cat with her sister Mellie in Pet Heaven right now. But mom's heart is sore...and the house is quiet.

Haiku-a-day -- Old Friends

Visiting old friends,

I'm fifty-four, sixteen, nine:

time melts, blends and swirls.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Blizzard

Roaring monster howls.

Blasting, swirling, drifting snow.

Tea steams in my mug.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Wind

sharp-edged mountain air

gallops east across prairies

leaves a trail of dust

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- A Trio of Landscapes

Landscape of childhood:

"Do you believe in Santa?"
"I don't know...do you?"

Bailey's -- no ice cube --

the landscape of adulthood.

It's been a long week.

Fallow fields stubbled,

south wind scented with silage,

monotone landscape.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Germs

WHAT THE STUDENTS GOT THEIR TEACHER FOR CHRISTMAS

There is no fever,

but there is also no voice.

Thanks for the gift, kids.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Grief

grief is not assuaged
either by December rain
or holiday lights




grief is a journey
friends walk in the dark with you
but the path is yours


©Mary Lee Hahn

Haiku-a-day -- Rain

JUST BEFORE I GET WET

I hear the raindrops

coming down through old oak leaves --

patter of applause.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Hope

NEIGHBORHOOD LUMINARIAS IN THE STILL DARK OF THE NEXT MORNING

last night's magic is

reduced to a single light --

one flame, flickering 

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- No Regrets

NO REGRETS

Scallops with capers,

bubbly wine, thick chocolate cake.

No sleep. No regrets.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Today

twelve thirteen fourteen --

a once in a lifetime day

like all the others

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Warmth

in the chill, I rub

my hands together for warmth

and my words for fire

©Mary Lee Hahn

Haiku-a-day -- Decorating Cookies

Yes, I do believe that's Ronald McDonald you see there...

Decorating Cookies

rolled sugar cookies --

31-year tradition --

end-of-year icing

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Tomorrow Will Come

ENGLISH MUFFIN ON THE MORNING BEFORE A KNOWN UNKNOWN

Half has Nutella,
half, chunky peanut butter.
Tomorrow will come.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Ripples

Each of us -- a stone.

Our lives -- the drop, the ripples.

What we do -- matters.

©Mary Lee Hahn

Today I will celebrate with a student who can trace his degree in Environmental Policy back to his experiences in my fourth grade classroom. It's rare to learn how the "what we did" became the "who they are." 

Haiku-a-day -- Sneaky Cat

HE THINKS WE DON'T KNOW WHERE HE'S BEEN

sneaky cat comes up

from a basement adventure --

cobwebs on his head

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Kettle

Grease-spattered kettle

does the job day after day.

Sunday, is polished.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Chickadee

Flickr Creative Commons Photo by Elliot Gilfix

Rain streaks the window --

chickadee at the feeder

cracks another seed.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Haiku-a-day -- Today

Cross-posted from A Year of Reading.

this is the best day

--really the only day--

of my precious life.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

(scrub to 4:52)


Anastasia has the Poetry Friday roundup at Booktalking #kdilit.

Haiku-a-day -- Creativity

TWINS

Creativity,

conjoined at the hip with fear.

Which do you love the most?

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Inspired by the fourth segment (Elizabeth Gilbert, author of EAT, PRAY, LOVE) on the TED Radio Hour "The Source of Creativity."

Haiku-a-day -- Jack the Cat

out of the darkness

white whiskers, raspy miaow --

my friend, Jack the Cat.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Jack and I go way back. He lives a couple of blocks away from us, in one of the little houses that encircle Selby Park. We met about 15 years ago, when we first moved to the neighborhood and I started walking a route that takes me past his house. He is the friendliest cat ever. He runs to greet me. He rubs on my legs and purrs and arches his back -- rubs and purrs, rubs and purrs. He has a funny little miaow that he squeaks in greeting and in pleasure. He is all black with a white chin and white whiskers -- a goatee and mustache. He's getting old, and I hadn't seen him for months. Then, today, like a gift from the universe, in the dark of my early morning walk, I spotted a thin black shadow crossing the street from Selby Park toward his house. Thin, no big tail, no stripes, no waddling..."Jackie?" I called. The shadow's head came up and, "Miaow!" It was him.

Haiku-a-day -- Quiet

appreciation

needs slow, needs quiet, needs you:

alert and aware

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014

Inspired by the fifth segment of this TED Radio Hour show entitled "Quiet."

Haiku-a-day -- Rain

rain makes the street shine

polishes unraked oak leaves

unlocks spicy scents

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2014