Shelter in Place
Everybody giggles, since
Sally and Joe and Robert and Devon
the kid with the Airpods
the boy with bad breath
and everyone else
is pressed in an intimate strata
in ways that they already
hope to forget.
Everybody whispers
and silences phones, because
that is the rule.
Though the closet is dark, the teacher
closes her eyes. She thinks of
the Schoolroom Poets,
what Longfellow, Holmes,
and the rest of the crew
might say to these kids
who’ve grown up with this drill.
She did not.
She remembers the rodent
that crisscrossed the floor
in the middle of the class on
the Plague—how it spread
on the fleas
on the rats
on the ships.
The class shrieked.
She wonders where that mouse is now.
She wonders how long she can stand it.
They wait for the tap that will let them know
it is finally their turn,
they can all come out.
Nancy J. Noé