(This poem uses Wrapped Refrain type II, a form invented by my friend Jan Turner. I posted this poem three years ago, when I first came to Soup. it's one of my few poems here at Soup that has never been for a contest. My school was really struggling at that time I wrote this. Now it's doing better, thank heavens!)
The school I've worked for half my teaching years is feeling more
and more the woes of these hard times. I walk the corridor,
remembering the better days
before I felt this new malaise
which lies inside the core of me
and matches all too eerily
the atmosphere that permeates this hallway and adheres
to all parts of the school I've worked for half my teaching years.
I pray to God I'll never see the end of this old school.
So many came and went, yet I remain. I'm someone who'll
stay put until they close its doors.
Ten years now I have walked its floors,
taught students and had fun with them.
I hope it's not a requiem
I'm writing soon for this dear place, which much like an old friend,
is apt to pass. . . . I pray to God I'll never see the end.
For PD'S Contest