To A Teacher.

Hurt once and for all into silence.
A long pain ending without a song to prove it.

Who could stand beside you so close to Eden,
When you glinted in every eye the held-high
razor, shivering every ram and son?

And now the silent loony bin, where
The shadows live in the rafters like
Day-weary bats,

Until the turning mind, a radar signal,
lures them to exaggerate
Mountain-size on the white stone wall

Your tiny limp.

How can I leave you in such a house?

Are there no more saints and wizards
to praise their ways with pupils,

No more evil to stun with the slap
of a wet red tongue?

Did you confuse the Messiah in a mirror
and rest because he had finally come?

Let me cry Help beside you, Teacher.

I have entered under this dark roof
As fearlessly as an honoured son
Enters his father’s house.

-L.C.

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