Saturday, March 04, 2006
The bird's wing is broken,
And it struggles to re-gain flight.
Stuck in a corner, lined with brick,
His chances of flying again are nil.
She's a large, middle-aged woman,
And she thinks of becoming a nurse.
She has four kids at home, and
A tired husband who is leaving.
With no employable skills,
She's gone back to college.
In my sessions she sits,
Red hair frazzled,
Colored pens stuck in pockets on her back pack,
Notes strung out on her desk.
Her questions bely her secret,
She doesn't understand molecular biology.
The pace is killing her dreams,
We covered two chapters in three hours.
And like the bird with the broken wing,
She struggles to re-gain her life.
Only the bird is childless.
March 4, 2006
Posted by Jim Bumgarner at 9:54 AM