School Days
by
Lillian Sara Cauldwell
Monday, November 17, 2003
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On dark winter days how hard it is to get up in the wee hours of the morning and to to school on time.
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Perpetual darkness
with little signs
of light,
I awake
to a dusty dawn.
Red faced,
puffy cheeks,
and feeling so folorn.
Sleepy eyes
hooded pupils
see the world
as inside out.
Blackened shadows
stare beneath
the lidded fortress
of my eyes.
Constantly seeking
my passive soul,
lying in and
thinking outloud
in a conscious state.
I wait
until I hear
the silver bell.
Bathed and dressed,
I run to the street
and get my bus ride there,
eating nails,
stomach rolling,
so I won't
be late for school.
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| Reviewed by Kay P Devenish |
11/17/2003 |
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| 5.59 am here right now,another hour and I will wake alexandra,(just 12years)it will be then be the usual battle...nagging nagging nagging her to get out of bed,dragging her out,but this morning,due to this poem,I will look at it all with new a perspective and be able to see what's going on inside that little school girl head behind those sleepy eyelids....thank you for this fabulous poem! |
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| Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado |
11/17/2003 |
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| i remember those days well, lillian. very well done; i enjoyed this write! (((HUGS))) and much love, your texas friend, karen lynn. :D |
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| Reviewed by Helga Ross |
11/17/2003 |
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There is nice flow and a unique way of expressing, in this piece.
I like it -- and I relate to it.
So glad those days are behind me. :)
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