Vigil

Vigil

I’m alone and contemplative the night before class,

the first of a new semester;

my windows open wide on a perfect late summer night

a glass of wine, some cheese, jazz, a warm breeze

a night so perfect that even the crickets can’t stop singing…

I close my eyes and listen.

I could be anywhere from Maine to Squam Lake to New Rochelle until

I’m jolted into place space and time by my upstairs neighbor,

a perennially mild mannered chap,

who answers his phone and then yells at his “ex” to “leave him the fuck alone!”

The crickets chirp in contrapunctal harmony and I resume my musings,

consider the perils and pearls of constitutional law

to import to kids away from home for the first time whose constitutions

probably need a bit of jump starting by the 5^th 8^th and 14^th amendments, perhaps

the passion of the preamble

or an abrupt realization they’d better get up and caffeinated because

this isn’t T’s, jammies, flip flops and senior year at Fuzzy Wuzzy High School for the Precocious.

It’s three hours later, the crickets are still at it: I’m alone so I’m not.

Tomorrow may be different:

I wonder if it’s ok to ask my student for her mother’s phone number.