I had forgotten the poetry I left on the walls of 546 S. First Street while teaching in room 301 all those years. Yesterday, Elizabeth Russell posted this photo she snapped when she revisited the school (12 years after here graduation). She was happy to see this doodle still scratched in chalk above the three showcase windows.
In this hand a universe --
possibilities for forgotten dreams
always lying in truth
moon,
suns,
the ones who fly by the fires of shadowed caves
cry through love's rants and raves
trying to grasp the stars
in the brown landscape of
tomorrow...and tomorrow...and tomorrow...
When I began teaching her class in 1998, I never thought their graduation in 2001 would come. As it got closer, I grew more anxious and sad. These were the kids I had for four years and their high school English experience was me. When they left, I felt a whole was left but it was soon filled by the oncoming needs of the next class. To know it's been over a decade now seems unimaginable. It was like yesterday that we traveled to St. Augustine and watched the sun rise together.
What a special feeling to know that a piece of you exists somewhere where you once worked routines. It is like I am still there, but so far, far away. It made my day to have this sent to me -- to remind me of the community that remains at my core.
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