The "Yes" Librarian

Photo by Ishan @seefromthesky on Unsplash Life is made of moments And days and years that fly.  This is the end of middle school,  But this is not goodbye. This is a moment to hold gently, Like a flawless diamond in your fist, Like a perfect summer sunrise, Like a fleeting ocean mist. H. B. Whitehorne Middle School  Is made of more than bricks and glass. You are the school. Even apart, You were united as a class. In truth, some days felt endless.  Your eyes ached from chrome book screens. You had to point your webcam at the ceiling,  So that your sadness wasn’t seen. You learned at a young age That Life’s a child who won’t play fair, And Fate’s a thief of plans and dreams,  But Hope surrounds us, just like air.  Sometimes the grownups don’t have answers. We’re all just trying to work it out.  But we are a team. You are the greatest. And we couldn’t be more proud.  You believed and kept on fighting, And that’s not an easy thing to do. But you learned to keep on going. You found the str

Photo by Thomas Park on Unsplash This year looks a whole lot different, With our masks and chrome book screens. I'd mug a man for Lysol wipes, If I could somehow flee the scene. All this waiting and this hoping, All new schedules, so much stress! "Synchronized" was a cheesy swim-dance, Before this awful Covid mess. I wish "remote" was just for t.v. And "hybrid" was the offspring of two plants. I had to shop for all new clothes. My boss said pajamas aren't pants?!? When the world just won't make sense, We need a sense of humor, friends. We have to think of who we'll be, By the time this nightmare ends. I hope we will be stronger, Somehow better than before. Fight the virus, not each other. There are no winners. There's no score. If you pray, pray for us teachers. We're only human after all. Pray for the students and the parents. This sure ain't the usual fall.