Home II: Parking Lot   Leave a comment

Home II

Above:  The Beginning of the Draft of This Poem


On a December morning,

I pull into the parking lot

of an auto parts store,

in search of ice scrapers.


Inevitable is my noticing,

next to that spot,

where, for a month in 2010, I did score

high school graduation papers.


It was a brief employment fling,

something which I got

to supplement my teaching pay, for

I thought I’d like to grade more papers.


Instead, I wound up learning

that the part-time job did not

satisfy me, and even bothered me sore-

ly; the task I came to curse.


It seems that my scoring

proved too strict.  I got

no invitation for an encore,

for my standards I did not reverse.


That ended three years and a month

ago, and I am still in town.

When I was a child, seldom did I remain

anywhere longer than three years,


so my tenure in Athens doth stunneth

me; I smile, not frown.

Moving so often was a great pain,

one which engendered terrible fears


within me.  My blessings of stability runneth

over; I welcome familiar sights and sounds

from three or more years past.  The main

thing is that they are around here.



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