Going through paperwork this weekend, I came across a packet of poems and prompts for students, old enough that I don’t remember whether I put it together or someone else did (probably a combo of both). This poem seemed right for the moment. The prompt, if you’d like it, is: Write about a time of waiting in your life. What did it look like, feel like, smell like? What were you anticipating? Did you know?
“What else is there
but waiting in the autumn sun?”
