Look back on Time
with Kindly Eyes
He doubtless did his best.
from The Envelope Poems [a concept attached to some of the writings of Emily Dickinson]
Last week, without forewarning, without clues, without eavesdropping, the weather changed and no one needed a jacket, there were no sweaters. Students wore shorts, teachers wore shells. It was difficult to find anyone wearing long sleeves except officials.
And with that there was another shade of lavender. We’ve had lilacs, we’ve had flag iris, and now it’s clover’s turn.
And there are wisps of something enveloping me. In a previous post I mentioned a colleague who can be most critical, yet when I told her I was staying she jumped right past next year and talked of the following year, of activities that could take place. A student came up after class today and asked if I had been a computer programmer (she had read my biography, so she knew the answer) and she asked some questions about programming and asked if I would be teaching next year, and when I said yes, she said she was now thinking of taking more English classes and apologized about her spoken English, and I said “you speak English very well, you’re just a little nervous” and she smiled, and said yes, “there’s that, too.” There are little claps of applause when some students learn I’m staying. And so a place is enveloping me.