Getting Ms. Crabtree to school
(A love poem)
As her students assemble
chatting around the locked door to the classroom
I pour her and her backpacks into
the open door of the SUV
where she says she's lost her purse.
Like a Sidewinder missile seeking heat
I set my sensors for fine leather
launch myself into the TV room
and acquire the target:
her Coach connection to sanity,
sitting beside the chair she reads in.