Send Me Mail
The Teacher's Charge
Eyes blue, cast downward
in doubt, shame or shyness?
Impossible to tell.
Towheaded, uncombed hair
shirt might have been clean yesterday
might have been new when he was a isze smaller.
But when you can get him to look up,
you see a silver spark
behind the sapphire irises.
To kindle that spark into flame
is the challenge I face.
Along with his twenty three classmates.
He struggles to print his letters
clutching the oversize yellow pencil
with a white knuckle clench,
when he's not pretending
that it's Harry Potter's
eleven inch hollywood wand
with the phoenix-feather core.
The magic he conjurs with his
redwood wand with the clay and graphite core
is far the more powerful
than anything Harry, or even Dumbledore
could cast with a gesture
and a pseudo-latin phrase.
Harry might use his magic
to summon a stag patronus,
but my six year old professional challenge
will one day create
an entire universe
with his.
3 April, 2005
Copyright 2005, by Steven K. Smith
All rights reserved