Janet Charman

the mist of chalk dust
rose from the savage thrust
of miss pettit’s arm against the board

the group three
slow learner girls
leaned in
took in the way
her brown arm softened into
blue veined cream
at the inner elbow

her cologne smell
saturated the fractions    and they shared
a little    intimate    ironic
defeated    silence
smiling into each other’s eyes
at the end
of the period

© Janet Charman

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Last updated 11 May 2001