I forgot to wish 
As I watched 
The wishing star 
Shooting star 
Fireball
Streak across the sky

My slow brain wondered
What is that?
Is that a shooting star?
A bright ball of glow
Green tail, almost neon
Came so close to the horizon I was sure I’d see an explosion of light
Hear a boom

But it just 
Stopped
Ended silently 
I was so struck 
by the magic 
I forgot to use it 
A shame because 
I could use a wish 
(or two)

I’m not going to romanticize teaching
Because
Today, like every day there was someone picking their nose
Yesterday someone sneezed after the last bell, and as it ran down their face, they tried to use their fingers to wipe it away
It’s not just the snot
It’s not
Today I had to remind them
again that
when I talk it means I have something I want them to, you know, hear,
that I don’t want them to just
look
like they are listening,
I want them to listen
So the long and short of it is I am not here to
tell you it’s all
roses
It’s not

But —

We talked about my laugh lines today,
if you’ve ever written personal essays with 7 year olds, and used your own self portrait as an example, you will probably understand.
“How do we get laugh lines?” they asked me.
“How long does it take?”
An anxious boy asked me what he could do to get laugh lines like mine and I said
Smile as much as you can
So he smiled

Yesterday I asked what a big prize could be and someone said
Another year of second grade

Today after my big talk
where I explicitly taught how to listen
and ask clarifying questions,
they listened
and you should have heard those clarifying questions!

Later at recess, I put on my too big, too long, very warm winter coat.

A student walked over to me and said “Ms. Gabriel? Why do you look like a fluffy marshmallow?“

I laughed,
since I am collecting laugh lines