RECESS
A single bus, orange as the sun sits abandoned in an empty school lot Light illuminates the grounds and the ghosts as the swings tremble in the breeze and the track waits, anxious for feet to sweep the dust from its skin
Where have all the children gone? The teachers? The staff?
Scattered across the city
they shelter in place
with screens to keep them company
together while distancing —
safe
But the bus knows not any of this nor has it learned of viruses or fear It simply sleeps
The Author
Jenna Lee Schifferle lives in Buffalo, New York, with her husband, dog, two cats, and countless rows of bookshelves. By day, she works at a nonprofit as a content creator. By night, she transcribes her daydreams in the hopes her words will inspire others. Her poetry has appeared in The Great Lakes Review and on her blog at jennaschifferle.wordpress.com. She has also published stories in Blink-Ink, Chicken Soup for the Soul: Curvy and Confident, In Good Health Buffalo, Syracuse Woman Magazine, and The Lockport Union-Sun & Journal. Her chapbook, My Therapist Told Me to Write This: Poems for Our Daughters is forthcoming.
