Image via Wikipedia

The children have gone home;
The school plans for a holiday.

The young teachers gather
In clusters,
Giggling over their Blackberries
Like the college girls they were
Just a year or two ago.

The older teachers
Meet in passing, mentioning plans
Of family reunions, of home renovations,
Shuffling their papers together,
Discharging their duties in haste
To be gone.

One by one
They vanish; doors close,
Car doors slam,
The rooms grow quiet.
Down in the library,
The computer gleeps
As the librarian checks in
The last book returns.

She calls a cheery
“Have a good weekend!”
To the night janitor,
And then, she,too, hurries away.
The only sound
Is the popping and creaking
Of the old building
And the click-click
of the dust mop

Sweeping up the remnants
Of another week of school.