by Rhiannon Hall
Green has no boundaries, it’s a promise of purpose. Green-lit, my pillow comfort. Green light on a phone cries – new emails, new Google Classroom posts. Ever- green with students’ all-hour questions. Students wring their hands with uncertain futures. Green is me blinking morse code – I’m here, I’m trying. Green urgent in my hands. Green like the sound of an old dog crying, knowing no amount of blankets and pillows will ease pain. Green, a beacon to this addict waiting for green. Green control, a job to do.
Welcome essay:
On my old Samsung a little green or blue flashing light meant that I had a new notification. During the period of Covid19 lockdowns in Australia I downloaded Google Classroom (an education app for teachers to communicate with their students). I also had my school email set up on my phone. I felt this need to be contactable 24/7. School and my students invaded every space of my house. I could feel myself slipping into an anxious state where every other aspect of my life came to a stop because I couldn’t find the motivation or self-belief to keep up. The only thing I felt capable of was being available for my students, many of whom were asking for support with their own mental health issues.
Poet biography:
Rhiannon Hall is an English teacher, who has been sharing her love of poetry for the past seven years through a poetry club at the high school she teaches at. She has had poems published in BlazeVOX20 (online journal); Seeking the Sun: Australian Poetry 2012, Central Coast Poets Inc.; Seeking Horizons: SCWC Anthology 2014, South Coast Writers Centre Inc.; and Cordite Poetry Review. Rhiannon has also published an essay in Axon: Creative Explorations (online journal). She enjoys workshopping her poetry with a group of Southern Highlands poets. Rhiannon is currently undertaking a Doctor of Creative Arts at Western Sydney University.
Old Water Rat Publishing 