Miss Hawthorne

At half till noon
on Tuesday morn
in the chapel room
on threaded carpet torn,
sits little children ‘round
the new schoolteacher,
Miss Hawthorne.
They sing “Jesus loves me,
this I know, for the Bible
tells me so”. They read
John 3: 16, “For God
so loved the world, that
he gave…”
How easy to have
trust, how easy to be on
fire. When the deepest
pains are skinned knees,
growing bones, lost teeth not
being alone. Being lost,
lukewarm.

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poem by Ryan Glover
Added by Poetry Lover
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