April Afternoon

I'm not quite sure if this will be the final draft of this poem, but I wanted to post it anyway. If anyone has any helpful comments that would be fantastic.

April Afternoon

Sipping green tea with the lid off surrounded by students.
Pondering Yeats’s realization of never reaching Druid status:
Crushed dreams or understood he caught “fairy stroke.”
Man driving, lunch in hand,
passerbyers wearing t-shirts.
Beyond these things:
Christmas wreath welcome
House wrapped in vines, lights out, inside
tree decorated, glass ornaments,
needles circle- scent from kitchen
green white speckled cookies counter
Beatrice in red velvet dress, sugar plum
apron, too long taking tenth batch out-

Jingling

Cell phone It’s time for class.