Tuesday, October 25, 2005

Davide Trame

Your Job

She started answering today for the first time
during the lesson, her phrases tentative but correct.
She, who had been bored, her gaze
slightly mocking and far away.
You felt a small, great spark glinting, quickly
in a moment something of yours was fulfilled,
a narrow strip of new hard land reached.
Your job, teaching: tackling minds,
possibly hearts, stumbling along with them
and waiting, like the fisherman by the current,
his silence the same as your persistency in words.


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