Talking of poetry, hauling the books <br />arm-full to the table where the heads <br />bend or gaze upward, listening, reading aloud, <br />talking of consonants, elision, <br />caught in the how, oblivious of why: <br />I look in your face, Jude, <br />neither frowning nor nodding, <br />opaque in the slant of dust-motes over the table: <br />a presence like a stone, if a stone were thinking <br />What I cannot say, is me. For that I came.<br /><br />Adrienne Rich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-a-classroom/
