An Ode to High School Study Hall: “Quiet”
Quiet, all is quiet,
Except for the turning of pages,
We sit and study quietly
From the halls of the knowledge of ages.
Cars drone past outside,
The heat from the furnace hums,
A pencil scratches then stops,
Feet tap the floor like drums.
Students with heads in hands
Look up from their quiet reprieve,
Like a herd of bustling cattle
They close their books, pack up, and leave.
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3 Comments
Marsha
Wow. Quiet study hall. Do those still exist? Nice reflection!
Gail Myers
Oh, I got a good chuckle out of this one. You painted a great picture of students in study hall. Love the poem.
Kelsey
Well done! Takes me back to study hall 🙂 You are so good at transporting me to different places and memories through your writing.