(from 1982 or 1983)
The hardest thing to do in school
is found in English class.
I start to feel somewhat like a fool
as my thoughts join together in mass.
I feel like writing about basketball, baseball,
or some other sport.
But the assignment is to construct a poem
of the symbolic sort.
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Back Story.
This was in a folder of my high school stuff. It is 40+ years old. A 8 line hand written poem on a folded up piece of yellow legal pad paper. I didn't change anything, ( added the picture) and included it here.
Maybe it survived to be seen and enjoyed by me and a few others.
Finding and reading this stuff, as my sisters clear out boxes at our parent's house, brings back a flood of good memories.
I think about how fortunate we were to have some great teachers.
Hat's off to my high school English teachers!
Ms. Proffit, Mrs. Everett, and Mrs. St Clair.
These wonderful people challenged the college bound kids, and reached the vocational-technical bound kids. Even the kids that struggled had every opportunity to learn the basics.
They were tough, interesting, sometimes funny, and always dedicated and serious about teaching. We learned an appreciation for literature, and to how write and speak correctly.
Thank you Ms. Proffit, Mrs. Everett, and Mrs. St. Clair !
You prepared us all for our next chapter.