September 22, 2019Lockdown Drill
As we practice being silent and invisible, a sophomore says,
Would you take a bullet for me, Mrs. Garcia?
In this corner of darkened classroom, teens under furniture,
his inquiry sparks murmurs. Crouching in my dress,
I give him a look that says, You are an insufferable wiseass.
While we wait, in my mind, I try to recite Psalm 23 by heart.
Would you take a bullet for me, Mrs. Garcia? I don’t yet know
that after more drills, future shootings, I soften and see
maybe the boy was scared and deflected fear the best he could.
Though restless, we remain huddled away from the windows.
Fifteen miles down the road is Sandy Hook Elementary.
Over the P.A., the Incident Coordinator gives the all-clear,
delivering us from make-believe that isn’t. I shepherd
students back to Shakespeare, semicolons. Sitting
at their desks, they fill each row, my little ducks.
from Poets Respond