Six Feet Away From Our Teacher, Six Thousand Away From Normal
Aviva Rosenstock, 9
When usually we would be getting ready for school, begging our mom to tell us about our new teacher, every single detail, the name, looks, voice,
When usually we would be looking at our backpacks and our new clothes, one size up, and touch the sharpened tips of our new pencils and stare at the white erasers that will soon turn grey.
But this year, we make sure our computers are shiny and ready to go, plug in the charger, clear the table, and start Zoom,
But this year, on the days we get to go to school, we double check our masks and make sure we have extra gloves in our backpacks, walk to school, see our teacher, urge to hug them, but stand . . .
. . . six feet away.
Aviva Rosenstock says
I hope you like this poem!!