Once Upon a Writing Class

This prompt is not very new. I remember writing to it at least once before. I wasn’t happy with the result. The poem you see is the second one I wrote today because I didn’t like my first attempt. I think it was nearly the same as the original one, though I can’t bear to start checking that now.

Once upon a Writing class
The autumn went in through the glass
The warm sun spilled its orange softness
All around the silent room, full of eager listeners.

It felt just like one day in summer
When the sun rays somehow squeezed between my eyelashes
Like silvery sparks,
The sun was brighter then,
And I could see and feel the water glitches
hopping up and down and
Side to side before my very eyes

The professor’s voice was dim and pleasant
In its monotony of steady knowledge
Made me wish I had the same steadiness in everything:
beliefs, ideas, expression.
You know, the overall impression one gives away.

I listened to the voice, and saw the summer sun beams
Still squeezing between the leaves of autumn
Not with regret, or a feeling of incompleteness –
Things were perfect then.
© 2015, MK