By Alison Hramiak
To my line manager, my friend
The early morning kitchen cups of tea,
Catching up on the news and gossip.
Those conversations across the desk tops,
Pretty much doing the same.
Being summoned from afar,
And taking my reading glasses – just in case.
Being texted or called in boring meetings,
Just to embarrass me and make me laugh.
Those cheeky glances across a room,
That tell me you’ve had enough.
Teaching in class with you,
And the way we run it like a double act.
You jumping out at me.
Or throwing things at me.
The way you know just when to give me a hug,
And ‘lend’ me my one tissue.
My line manager,
(zoom just isn’t the same).
But more than that,
I miss my friend.
I was introduced to poetry at an early age, I have been writing poetry for friends and family for many years, and for all reasons – http://www.poetryforlives.co.uk. I have a passion for poetry, and here is where my passion lives. My life in poetry started as a teenager, with an early publication in a magazine for Yorkshire poets. I haven’t stopped since then, and I don’t intend to. I love to write poetry, and it’s the one thing I do naturally really well. My head trains teachers but my heart writes poetry.
I wrote this a few weeks into lockdown, by which time all our teaching (I train teachers) had moved online and we were embracing the (then) strange world of ‘zoom’ sessions. I’m writing from a village in West Yorkshire, where the concept of broadband is still quite new on the leafy lane I inhabit. It makes for ‘entertaining’ zooms, and while I don’t miss the hourly commute to Sheffield where I work, I do miss the face to face contact with my colleagues and friends there. Yes, I was able to do more reading (and gardening) than before, but on balance, I prefer pre-lockdown days.
I also wrote a poem about the corona virus and the quiet it brought to us all for while. This was published on: https://festivalforpoetry.com/2020/06/18/the-corona-quiet-by-alison-hramiak/
The change in noise, (to near silence all day and night) at the start of lockdown was stark, and a reminder of how serious it all was – stark even for the semi-rural location where I live.
I write from the heart, and though I had more time, more quiet, and more head space in the summer, (once teaching was finished) this did not mean I wrote more poetry. I read more, but was not moved to write as much. Maybe we (I)? need to get out more, and embrace the world more to be inspired to write more.