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This poem is taken from PN Review 172, Volume 33 Number 2, November - December 2006.

The Hourglass Robert Minhinnick

Biding my time.
                    biding my time.

Third lesson in the high school and I look up suddenly.
I have taught in this room for thirty years
and told children about coastal erosion
and how there is order in the universe.

But I am growing old in their service
while my classes remain young.
Forty, fifty, but the girls
always seventeen. And the boys twelve.

        Hottest Day Ever
says the Manchester Evening News.
        I close my eyes and think:
tomorrow is Thursday. I will not come in...
        I will never come in again.

Now, what's that?

        That sound?
...


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