One of the wonders of old age is that somehow, often certain memories sharpen while others fade. Sort of a reshuffling and arranging of limited space. So it was a true gift when my first grade country school classmate, Lorlee Bartos, shared a poem, pulled from her memory, and written down for her poetry group. It is a fine example of memories kept and reused, a shared remembrance that I shall cherish. Thanks Lorlee!
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
Excited and dressed
in my first day finery
hair in curls
a masterful achievement
for pin straight hair
Greeted with
My, we have a big class--
seven first graders
Carol, Darrell, Stanley, Larry,
Marlow, Alan and me
the first wave of Baby Boomers
Let’s all print our names
on this piece of paper
Why look how Stanley has done it
Isn’t that nice
Stanley obviously had better older siblings
he had mastered
upper and lower case
Despite going on to scholastic glory
I could only print my name
in all capitals
Which I sensed was somehow inferior
__________________________
(In photo above years later, Lorlee and Stanley sat side by side in the back row for the annual school picture. Lorlee graduated high school with top honors, Stanley not so much.)
