Mrs. K's Days

Adventures in Middle School

A Pantoum for Caesar

 Our very first new puppy, one we chose

A sweet Rottweiler/shepherd/black lab mix

brown brows and paws, soft black fur, a cold nose

We thought he’d romp, chase balls, run after sticks

 

Our sweet Rottweiler/shepherd/black lab mix,

A working dog, just wants a role to play.

We thought he’d romp, chase balls, run after sticks;

He proudly fetched the paper every day.

 

A working dog just wants a role to play.

Caesar chose to protect us, and our home.

He proudly fetched the paper every day.

He never showed the least desire to roam.

 

Caesar chose to protect us, and our home.

With hackles raised, fur humped up like a camel, he

would never show the least desire to roam –

just stood firm, on guard for our family.

 

With hackles raised, fur humped up like a camel, he

Barked fierce, deep, and loud. No robber would risk it.

Caesar stood firm, on guard for our family.

Only we knew he’d stop barking for a biscuit.

 

His bark fierce, deep, and loud – No robber would risk it.

Even now with old legs, stiff and slow,

Only we know he’ll stop barking for a biscuit.

Show him his leash and he’s still ready to go.

 

Even now with old legs, stiff and slow,

He struggles upstairs rather than stay alone.

Show him his leash and he’s still ready to go.

This is the dog that I would like to clone.

 

He struggles upstairs rather than stay alone,

Our very first new puppy, one we chose.

This is the dog that I would like to clone –

Brown brows and paws, soft black fur, a cold nose.

 

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Doing My Own Homework

After assigning an original tritina to my class, I decided to try one. Here it is. I totally admire my students’ openness – sharing is terrifying!

Passover Tritina

 

My father reclined comfortably against his pillows at the head of the long table.

In the fragrant kitchen, my mother and grandmother agonized over the fluffiness of the matzah balls.

Year by year, I listened to my brothers, then my cousins, chant the four questions.

 

At seven my turn came, and came again, until 26 and very pregnant, I was tired of the four questions.

To steal the afikomen, a good plan was to crawl towards my father under the table.

Some years, it seemed bowling balls landed in our soup instead of matzah balls.

 

Now I am the one fretting over a pot of matzah balls.

Each of my sons has taken his turn asking the four questions.

This year, my grandson wiggled in his high chair while his dad reclined on pillows at the head of the table.

 

What a privilege, to have loved ones at your table, to laugh over matzah balls, and answer those same four questions.

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Mrs. K's Days

Adventures in Middle School