In grade 3 we’re taking
notes on a coconut today,
observing, learning what
it means to know, and
what it doesn’t mean.
We’re taking in deep
whiffs of it, rubbing its
hair like we pet our
dogs, puzzling, listening
to see if the fuzzy thing
gurgles or mews, estimating
the size of its circumference
a term we learned last week
in math. One of us puts
a tongue to the rough husk,
grimaces, shoots the no-
nonsense teacher a look.
We are not to ask
questions like, Where
do coconuts grow? or
What’s it look like on
the inside? We are told
we must rely on our own
senses, our own devices,
though it is the teacher
who finally taps the fluke
with a hammer, pries
open the shell, exposing
milk and meat.
One of us starts to cry
softly, falters, whispers
to me they heard it say,
I’m not comfortable
with all this attention.
This is wonderful!!! It makes me laugh and it makes me consider myself as the observed and as the observer… Thanks for sharing your gift!