Max Is Not in School
Today the sun shines
a little bit brighter.
Today the wind has lost
its bite, and the air
hangs less heavy
in the classroom.
Today Max
is not in school.
Today my ears are not stung
by barbed words.
Today my ribs don’t tighten
in my chest
as taunts lash out
across the playground.
Today my books
are in my bag
and not torn up and scattered
across the floor.
There’s a small oasis
in the wide parched desert;
a faint rainbow
in the winter storm.
Today I can breathe
just for a while
because Max
is not in school.
