Poem for a First Grade Teacher

I often write poems for special occasions. I’ve written several to read at the retirement parties of teachers and other staff members who worked at my school. I posted the following poem, Here Is Her Room, at Blue Rose Girls last May. The poem was written several years ago for one of our first grade teachers. I thought I’d post it again at Wild Rose Reader for Tricia’s Poetry Stretch-School’s Out, Summer’s In.


Here Is Her Room
by Elaine Magliaro

Here is her room—
dark and dusty,
bare of bright pictures,
plastic bins empty
of thick primary pencils
and silver-scaled scissors,
its cardboard alphabet
hidden in a dim cupboard.
The painted whales
have swum away for summer.

Here is her room—
hollow and lonely,
its door shut tight
on uncounted memories.
Turn the brass knob
and enter softly.
Listen to the echoes
of downy chicks
cheeping in a corner,
merry young Pilgrims
celebrating the first Thanksgiving,
children singing songs
and reciting well-loved poems,
the snip of busy scissors
cutting colored paper
for a winter collage.

Here is her room—
four walls holding a happy history,
a world of words and wonder
she opened to boys and girls
before she gave them
wings.