Feverish Vision
The classroom window frames promise.
The spring trees are freshly painted,
The spice of their blossoms lingers
From the walk to class,
The breeze invites the leaves along
On its trip back to Eden.
Inside, the promise of return
On time and effort invested has
Fallen out of students’ portfolios.
Florescent lights can’t penetrate
To the shadowy, muted instructor
As students look at the world in the window.
Chris Brockman
















Comments: 30
You have painted a very evocative poem, Chris.
to the new leaves I teach the root.
senryu-for-chris-brockman.html
Out in the bush, when I was teaching Inuit high school students, school was over when the birds came back. I remember being in my World History class when we heard geese honking....the kids just ran out of the classroom. School was over for the year!
Thanks for sharing and submitting to
The Surreal Circus.
Blessings and best wishes always - S.