The Brick
The brick sits on the master’s desk.
The master enters the classroom,
sees the brick, picks it up,
and without even looking
hurls it out of the window.
It is a warm, spring day
and luckily the window is open.
The schoolboys watch the brick
as it tumbles in slow motion
end over end through the air.
It lands with a thump in the quad
right at the feet of another master.
This second master looks around
but there’s nobody in sight.
He shrugs his shoulders,
bends down, picks up the brick,
puts it in his briefcase,
and walks away.
rogermoorepoet 
You didn’t know George Doucet at Dalhousie, Inorganic Chemistry professor, in 1973 and onward, but this could be a tribute to him, gutsy and a great teacher. He could be either prof in your poem ….
LikeLiked by 1 person
It says a lot about their characters. Fiery and placid … if the picture is good, then it acts like a mirror in which others can be seen.
LikeLiked by 1 person
A funny poem…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh my! Good way for someone to end up dead!
This was funny, Roger!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I was sitting in the top left corner of the class (tiered desks) as far away from the teacher as possible. I watched it all happen. Great fun, as you can imagine. I was 14 / 15 at the time. The teacher outside the window was incredible. Brick lands at his feet, picks it up, puts it in briefcase, keeps walking … doesn’t bat an eye-lid. Happens every day! I wonder how many other kids from that class remember the incident.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is crazy. I can see why that one stuck in your brain…Lol
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lots of things stuck in my brain from that place. I have written a book full of them!
LikeLiked by 1 person