My Teacher

Mr. Harker

My 8^th grade math teacher

his smooth bald head glistens

from the over head lights

in our classroom.

He's nuts about numbers,

waves his arms

and starts writing zeros on the board.

Carrying them on and on

to the next board

his arm circles.

A most important number, he says.

Nada,

zilch,

nil, oh, circle.

The additive identity of the integers.

Columbus egg,

void,

naught, aught, null.

Place value systems.

Zip,

place holder,

zero, blank, nix.

Me, I'm not sure.

I think

I'm barely more than

nothing.

I've started to work on a novel in verse.  I don't know how far I'll get, but I thought you might enjoy this poem about one of my teachers.   Funny, for me it is very hard to write free verse for young children.  This poem is intended for middle graders.

I think everyone has a story about one of their teachers.  Do you?  Can you write a poem about your teacher?  See how many of your senses you can get into the poem.