AT SCHOOL
 

  Flicking through the phone book
  Ah, there can only be so many schools!
  Finally a name is registered as yours
  I grab my jacket, helmet and go

  My motor bike stood outside
  While inside the teachers
  In the smoko room were placed strategically
  To stop a run with the prize

  Sat alone in a corner
  I waited for her to be brought from class
  Finally a voice I remembered well came
  Pitter pattering from the next room

  A small girl burst in the room
  Only to stop as she saw all the teachers
  She saw me and half ran towards me
  Seeking sanctuary between my open legs

  As I reached out to touch her a young male teacher moved
  To be called back by another, older and a mother, maybe
  I reached out again to stroke her chin
  She tilted her head back in trust

  "Where's your Mom honey?"
  "At home Dad."
 
 

 Ewan Elliott