A Landscape in Pakistan
A small woman from Pakistan and
Older than most of our students,
You wore traditional garb,
Favoring browns and tans
That seemed to come from tree
And earth and river.
When you first came
You did not smile and
Kept your head down,
Standing by yourself
In the hall during break
While other students
Talked and laughed.
Maureen, your other teacher,
Knew how to bring you out,
Joking with you
And lowering her face to yours
So you would look at her.
Gradually, you did look up,
And spoke and laughed
And talked to other students.
And so you learned this language
Foreign to you and
So difficult for adults.
I loved
Your courage, persistence,
Shy smile and quiet dignity.
We read that you,
Away from us in the country
You came from,
Would not be coming back
Ever.
At the next class,
We teachers had not the heart
To teach, and
So we sat in plastic chairs
That night and
Remembered.
Dan Verner
April 23, 2017
Biscuit City 