Freckles

Dropout Professor

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They are scattered,

Maybe all but gone now,

But I wish for a hint

Of them

In seeing them shine;

and maybe now

A beautiful kind of embarrassment

for you,

and not for me.


That first day, I was trembling hard

Away from mommy, the first time, pulled

From her smile and mommy’s tender-warm love

to the looming pale-green dome

of bus number 46 in ‘76.


Toward the cold, stern and tired eyes of Mrs. Katiner.

I spell it wrong now, and would get Mr. Yustock’s paddle.

Him, too, I misspell, but I don’t misspell you,


Renee.


But she put me with the tall and pretty blonde,

more like a mantis than a unicorn,

but so pretty was she,

with long powerful

And lovely legs, for a child.


She knew I would not cry or tell,

so she kicked me hard for my sins

I had yet to commit.


Black…

View original post 178 more words

Author: dropoutprofessor

A professor of English and Social Sciences that enjoys writing. Hope you enjoy my posts. All published work on this blog is my own. Pictures are used under license from Depositphotos.com or Shutterstock.com, unless otherwise noted.

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