Lukiv's Educational Stew, Ingredient 4 of 5:
Poetry: The Teacher

Dan Lukiv
M.Ed., English and Creative Writing
McNaughton Centre, Quesnel, BC, Canada
E-mail: lukivdan@shaw.ca

Electric heat and humidity
Assault me
This morning
In my classroom,
Both leftover from yesterday's
Coup d'etat of summer.

I reach out to open a window,
But I discover a "fat" bee
Peering through Plexi-glas,
Helplessly still,
Watching the world
Die.

Its stinger-abdomen
Barely twitches.
Its wings,
Like agate-wafers,
Droop.
A clump of pollen,
As green as grasshopper-blood,
Sticks to one leg:

I open the window, and
A page flies off my desk.
Armoured bits soon
Pulse and twitter.
Wings tremble.
The bee flies away,
Sleepily,
Mind you,
But off it goes,
With legs dangling
Like numb tentacles.

I sit at my desk--
Uncluttered at last!--
Peering at my lesson plan:
"Lead destroyed Rome."

But I look away,
Craning my neck
To feel cool air flowing
Across my face from the
Open window.

Yet again I feel cheated.
The children I've taught
Will leave.
You'd think I'd get used to
All this,
This last day,
But I don't,
I haven't.

I search for a travel brochure,
Anything to take me away,
For a few minutes,
Before the kids clamor down the hall
One last time
To say hello and
Good-bye.

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