Back to School

We go back on Friday

just a half day,

maybe to see

if we are okay being back.

I try to picture Malia

in the classroom, sitting in one of these desks.

Will she be okay?

She’s going to make everyone laugh.

 

 

Mr. Potts lets us talk

about the earthquake;

we can talk or write about our feelings,

and that’s what we do all day.

Some kids tell stories

about hiding,

some kids talk

about what they saw on TV …

and then something unexpected happens.

I raise my hand.

I WANT to talk about it.

I talk about the talent show,

and the plaster coming down,

and my grandfather.

When I finish and look around,

I remember that I haven’t said anything

out loud in a long, long time.

Maybe nobody remembers my voice.

I talk about Buddy finding us,

and then I look at Jordan,

and Martin, and that’s when it happens.

Martin stands up, starts talking about

how we had to move heavy shelves

so Mrs. Hershkowitz could stand.

We had to all do it together

just to get it to budge, he says.

 

 

I look at Jordan, fidgeting in his seat,

getting ready to tell his parts of the story, too.