Lisa Molina
Two Poems
Now I Shower at Dusk
Before Covid
I showered at dawn
as a new day began.
Through the slit of window next to my left ear,
The sun on the horizon would rise in the east.
Then drive to work,
where I would
talk with, laugh with, learn with—
Our special students, hoping to help them believe in themselves,
even when their bodies and brains move and think differently from most.
Hoping each day,
as I crossed the parking lot to enter the school,
that I wouldn’t have to shield one of them—
with my body,
From a bullet.
The murderer in my imagination—
Now, before exiting my car each morning, I put on a non-metaphorical mask and shield
Hoping each day,
as I cross the parking lot to enter the school,
that I won’t infect one of my students or colleagues—
With a microscopic bullet.
This time, the murderer in my imagination is me.
I drive home at 5
Get out of my car
Numbly walk straight upstairs
Unmasking to nakedness.
The running water covering my shuddering body, my sobbing cries.
Hoping, begging that here, home, I won’t kill my husband, son, daughter.
Azure sky, clouds, and sun falling in the west.
Yes. Now I shower at dusk.
A Teacher’s Lament
My teacher’s lanyard—
Dog tags chainmail around my neck.
Cloaked in mask, shield, gloves, and gown.
A knight? A soldier?
Just a cavalier
No One?
Am I Searching for the Holy Grail
Of purpose?
Of meaning?
Or Perhaps a hero’s death?
Breaths. So. Many. Deaths.
Patiently, passionately, purely,
Have I loved and been loved.
So.
Therefore.
I, too, will refuse to leave.
I, in fact,
will Breathe….
Teaching;
Waiting;
Never;
Abating.
—Submitted on 11/11/2020
Lisa Molina holds a BFA from The University of Texas at Austin, and has taught high school English and Theatre. She was named Teacher of the Year by the Lake Travis Education Foundation. She also served as Associate Publisher of Austin Family magazine. Her life changed forever when her son battled leukemia three times over seven years, and still has numerous health issues as a result of the treatments. Since 2000, Molina has worked with students with special needs, both at the pre-K and high school levels. She believes art is essential for the soul, especially in times of darkness. She lives in Austin with her family.
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