We painted the schools.
Summer heat found us with
brush and roller in hand.
Institutional grey and green
with white enamel in the restrooms.
Trim of too little contrast for beauty
was to sooth the surging hormone troops.
Teacher dignity dented by
the spot of paint on the nose.
Tom's cigar and Frank's cigarettes
statements of summer casualness.
Paint stained hats, worn out suit pants
and frayed white shirts
te acher's painting outfits.
Dancing slippers worn to near extinction
became camouflaged painting slippers.
One hour to get the paint ready.
Another to clean the oil paint
from brushes and cans formed bookends
for many hours of conversation.
Teacher bonding with discussions
of Educational Philosophy and low salaries.
Supervision was by a Chemistry teacher
who was sure he knew more of teaching
because he was paint crew foreman.
Can't remember if that was true
but he was sure a sharp critic
of the crew's painting.
Four amateur painters slow and sloppy
engaged in staff development
that made a difference.
In the fall the halls again rang from
pimply loudness and the tie and coat painters
were transformed into teachers.
Walk the halls of the academy and wonder
what the painters talked of.