Descends the wind, descends only into the school
Clutches and clings, chills the fingerprints on a chalkboard
And textbooks where lessons are lying in dust;
Here is a place in dim light, but no sunlight
Holding shadows of students and a teacher in a corner
Holding their torpid souls in a forgotten past.
Drives the cold wind, sweeps the whisper of a swing
Here was a place with bits of laughter
Time when it fell into silence when a school bell rang;
But not in the classroom- scolding, teaching, chattering,
Voices carried up in shafts of sunlight
Into the cold descending, into an open, frosty field.
If you do not come too close, spoke the schoolmarm
On a 1888’s fateful day- If you do not come too close,
We will be saved; a wave of cold and a heavy snow;
Holding each other by hand and rope
Walking in heavy feet with a solemn, frightful look
Children writhing, falling, the tolling bell.
Copyright © 09/10/2016 lance sheridan®