hammering it home in the stifling classrooms
or under the skies without a sun
you must turn inside out your pockets
to those so proud of coins
to prove to yourself
it's not you they mean to call on
but the one behind you.
it's not far, the place where you'll
be welcomed; into the books you plunge
as into water, the sky at night
what's left of twilight
after they've finished with it.
mary angela douglas 28 march 2016