To teach she sat behind her desk
something I wonder about now
I couldn’t do it—sit, I mean.
I bounced around my rooms to teach, engaged,
but that’s something I wonder
about now for she made me bounce.
That’s where
it began, for sure,
with pretty willowy Miss Brown.
The way she cupped the flip in her
shoulder-length hair, leaning forward
so soft and orderly—the way
each day her red cursive “Good Work”
graced book reports, essays and tests—
Remember? Spelling
eighth-grade words
was fun, such fun to please her red
ink slant atop pages I wrote.
For her, I risked being better,
focused my normal Look-At-Me
on perfection, neatness, power
in what I read and wrote
and Oh!
She published the literary
magazine and my first story!
Certainly that’s where it began
this eagerness to be best, this
belief I could do anything.
To teach she sat behind her desk
and quietly noticed us all
and we saw her hand writing on
our inner walls saying “Good Work”
and her hand cupping shoulder curls.
We saw her seeing us each day
and sat up straighter than before
behind our desks for dear Miss Brown.
Copyright © 2015 S.L.Chast