Just Another Day

One day when the Earth is swept clean and starts all

over again, what then?

No one will care, I imagine; no one is there (not even

you and I imagining). No surprise—no truth to tell, no lies.

Sister Marietta erases Magellan’s name from the chalk

board leaving but a streaked trace of white

as she walks out of the room turning off the light. Class

is over. No homework in history tonight. No one is

grateful (not even the dead); no one forlorn. Tomorrow

is just another day without a number, without a name.

Chris Hanch 9-30-19