“John Muir Elementary” by Martha Silano
John Muir Elementary
When John Muir said Nature's peace will flow into you
as sunshine flows into trees, he could not have imagined
John Muir Elementary, non-descript brick surrounded
by asphalt, a playground where ropes dangle from poles
lacking tether balls. Could not have been thinking,
when he intoned All that the sun shines on is beautiful,
of the bark chips, the chain-link fence, the 20-minute
daily allotment of recess, the cafeteria ladies serving up
USDA surplus beef to the 75% who qualify for free lunch.
Oh, John! I’m sure you’d have an issue with the downer cows
they feed our nation’s youth, cows the district sometimes bury
in a far-off place. John! No grass, no dirt, though okay,
two California redwoods over by the fading hopscotch boards,
trees where my daughter plays hide-and-seek with Heaven
and Daejah, Camille and Cerrell — Camille like com’ere, Cerrell
like surreal, which is what it is when the principal struts outside
with her megaphone, tells us if this was an actual fire
we wouldn’t have burned, commending us for exiting quickly
from the library where we were deeply ensconced in The Wild Muir.
Come to think of it, John, I think you’d be pleased it bears your name.
Who knows? Your ghost might be cozying up to the backstop
and the blackboards, looking on as the playground monitor greets
the burka-ed, the braided, and the dreadlocked. It’s not real brick.
There’s no veggie or native plant garden, but if you show up
on Talent Night, Heritage Night, Math Night, or to the End-of-Year Potluck,
the kindergarteners will be on stage belting out “It’s a Wonderful World.”
They will hear you clapping from across the rainbow bridge,
because, like you said, We all flow from one fountain soul.
Photo Credit: Staff