Managing Editor's Note:  Click to enlarge and read the photo, an ad from our sponsor NAA. This is a thoughtful, two part post by Adriana Gamondes. Last week we read of a young man with autism who had bleach thrown in his eyes for a toileting accident. As the numbers of student with autism grows (1 in 38 boys?) and the adult population soars, what can we expect for our loved ones?  The post follows the poem. Grab a coffee, spend some time with this one and share it with friends, family and educators, won't you?

Special Ed—Part 1

By Adriana Gamondes

The Angel in the Engine

It starts with just a little tap
A little jolt
A little rap
They swore the thing was stripped for scrap
But wound in weeds it lay in wait
The angel in the engine
Is whispering your name
And warns you of forgotten freight
 
It starts with just a little cry
Anesthetized
It barely breathes
Gears grind with such a distant grief
Then bear down at the speed of crime
The angel in the engine
Is whispering your name
And tells you it will run on time

It starts with just a little mark
Just for the charts
If memory serves (they like it, see)
But memory fails (then so do we)
It’s only rust on every rail
And loving hands to help them sleep
The angel in the engine
Is whispering your name
And tells you how they spit their teeth