9: 45 A.M. With Mrs. Miller Poem by Shelby Barker

I’m sitting in honors geometry, quizzing my
‘prerequisite skills’, plain old
graphing and equations
In plain old high school
Although I could be
slipping on a cotton black dress and folding memories
into my handbag, or placing them under
my little black hat
Walking out the door without a word
It’s sitting in a math class, a french or history class, stable
or standing with my family, breaking down internally,
whispering a prayer into the palms of my hands
Either could be didactic
Both could be torturous
But either way there’s nothing I can do
but listen quietly,
and keep to myself
School vs funeral