the school is a city
like Venice or New Orleans
populated by students
milling in the streets
I wander to work
dragging my bag
and a lap desk
along the ground
stopping frequently
to adjust straps
I see you
behind me
down the street
looking in shop windows
laughing
I dance a half-step
happy
you are still here
then enter an alleyway
past hand-painted signs
on grimy bar windows
to greet my class
(June 5, 2013)
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