Together

A little poem about the experience of teaching, testing, and thinking:




They look at numbers under staves



They listen for tones that are not sounded



They are quiet and sweet




All right-handed, they tilt their heads to the left as they think

Some don't:

two pianists

and a trumpeter who looks really strong




The back row is engaged,

but why are they back there?



I gave them all next week's test yesterday



Stupid me



We are all together in Mod 3