Looking, from inside these windows

Looking, from outside these windows,
I see the colors of the leaves, changing - red, orange, yellow, green
their warm, bright colors shine through the glass of our school windows.

Standing near the window,
I hear the voices of children
calling to each other,
laughing with one another,
bouncing the ball,
whispering secrets.

Outside the window,
parents approach the entrance
holding their child's hand in one hand, and their backpack in the other,
reviewing their lessons and reminding their children to behave in school,
hugging and kissing, they wave goodbye to their children.

On the other side of the window,
teachers prepare materials,
arrange desks and chairs,
organize their classrooms for another day of learning, another day of working.

All of the schools' windows shattered
when the war broke out
hide in the basement, take shelter,
we're safe here - with a supply of water
wait, until the explosions stop.

Teachers taught during the day,
then went to guard the border through the night;
some never sleeping,
some days, teachers never went home in between
just changed into their uniform at school.

Plastic bags covered the frames
where the glass of the windows once stood,
sights of children, parents, and teachers were no longer visible,
laughter was replaced with the sound of plastic crashing against the cold wind
which flooded into the hallways.

Windows were installed when the principal secured funding
their village mayor could not support these expenses
the principal was left to her own devices
not all of the windows were restored,
some needed to be covered,
fear that if war were to return
shattered windows could cause harm.

Looking from inside these windows,
learning re-commences
new and former students filled the hallways
and teachers returned to their classrooms.