Chalk by Clair Wright
Pleats swinging, square heels pick across the school hall She lifts the needle, the music stops. Ageless, yet ever-middle-aged Face pink, scrubbed, brisk, Hair neat from its weekly set She surveys us in our cross-legged rows. The conductor of an orchestra, she opens With an overture of “good mornings” Chorused in unison. She directs, with an eyebrow, The teacher at the piano stool A cheery hymn to sunshine and obedience. One hundred faces raised to hers - Deliverer of stern words, gold stars, boiled sweets, The epitome of school. But then For two summer weeks, a revelation: Marooned in the hall, a single table, set for one, With ceremony, the television set Resplendent on its trolley Is wheeled in place. Unmindful of two hundred wondering eyes, Of clatter and chatter, spills and splatter, Dining alone on shepherd’s pie and treacle sponge But tasting strawb...