Whenever on fall-tingle mornings you suddenly hear
The bluebonnet matins of eight-year olds grow near
Then nearer your pictureframe window that opens wide ...
On a frost-fingered world of saffron and gold outside ...
Whenever you see diminutive caravans swinging
Red satchels of books and boxes of lunch and
Flinging their Lilliput missles of laughter toward heaven
And you ... whose eyes fill up with revery (and dew)
Wherever, whenever you watch schoolchildren pass
Whose gay-goose litanies arise en masse
Remember that blocks away or miles away
Are teachers with halos of chalk and feet of clay!