grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Describe the Air

By

Describe the air, he says.

Don’t think about it, just start

writing. Whatever comes to mind.

Air? She mumbles the word and stares

at him or at least he thinks she is staring at him

but really she is looking at the clock on the wall

just above his shoulder. From her spot in the classroom

the clock appears to be perched near his ear

which strikes her as funny. Not haha funny

but crazy funny. Like describing air.

He paces in front of his desk then stops

and repeats himself like he is prone to do.

Just whatever comes to mind, the way air feels, he says, drawing

out the word f-e-e-e-e-l-s.

She doesn’t know how to describe air. She doesn’t

belong in this class or this school or this place or this

life.

This uncomfortable life.

The classroom is filled with sounds

of scribbling. Pen to paper. Thoughts spill

and pens move effortlessly, yet she sits frozen.

Immobile.

He walks to her desk.

He stares.

He snatches her blank notebook paper.

Her pen bounces to the floor

and hides beneath her desk.

Nothing, he says.

That’s how the air feels to me, she whispers.

He stares. She watches the clock.

schoolhouse clock

 

Grace Grits and Gardening

April is National Poetry Month. Although Air is not written in the style of a traditional poem (and I do not profess to be a poet, heaven’s no), I do enjoy writing poefictiontry which Carve Magazine describes simply as poetry that tells a story or flash fiction that sounds lyrical. 

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Comments

  3. WOW, that made me think too! Air? Interesting thought…how to describe air. Might have to try that one for myself. ♥

    • Thanks Kathy – this was to be my A post for A-Z Blog Challenge had I not dropped out:(

    • Pat this is 100% fiction. I wrote this for the April A-Z Blog Challenge (A is for Air), then decided not to participate this year. I enjoyed CD Mitchell’s class—he was nothing like the professor in this poem – LOL.

  8. I was such a clock-watcher in high school.
    And college.
    And nursing school.
    I probably would be at work too, but I’m usually up and around, doing something!
    Wonderful poem. Thanks for sharing it. 🙂

    • Thank you! I was a clock watcher in high school. And sometimes at work:)

  11. Very nice…thanks for sharing, Talya. I agree, air feels like ‘nothing’…I take it for granted. A ticking clock, not so much…it’s the bane of my busy existence. 🙂

  12. I hardly ever read poetry that’s not Dr. Seuss, so thanks for the opportunity to read something a little more grown up and thought provoking!

  13. I love it! I actually brought back a memory of my sister having an experience very similar to this in school. I could even smell the school and hear that giant wall clock ticking.

  15. You are so creative! I definitely am a clock watcher or watch watcher, which is one reason I have not discarded it and made my cell phone my time keeper. It’s easier to steal a look without being noticed.

    • I watch the clock if I’m not engaged:) Isn’t it great when you get lost writing and realize half the day has passed!

  16. You’re right, Talya. I wouldn’t call this a poem but it is very good prose spaced on the page like a poem. Great insight into those pompous, elitist writing classes where they want you to create something from nothing. Sometimes zero just means zero!

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!