I accidentally posted last week's poem again this morning. Here's a new one.
Course Load
The students stoop under the weight
of their backpacks, like penitents
tracing the Stations of the Cross,
or troops of unhappy Santas
unable to give their gifts away.
Books are their burden, recess
their relief. Will their backs break
before their brains are made whole?
Or will Kindle let them carry more
than they can hope to comprehend?
Course Load
The students stoop under the weight
of their backpacks, like penitents
tracing the Stations of the Cross,
or troops of unhappy Santas
unable to give their gifts away.
Books are their burden, recess
their relief. Will their backs break
before their brains are made whole?
Or will Kindle let them carry more
than they can hope to comprehend?
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