In the classroom at the top of the stairs
(turn right - there are two doors
use either)
on the counter,
there are three bowls.
Clay, they're made of, impressed
with little fingerprints
pushed in.
In the bowls there are small mementos
snippets of lessons
the teacher hopes were learnt
or anyway, that they will be remembered when the fingernail sized heart
red felt clipped a little off-center
is touched.
Or maybe the bean
or the seed will remind.
In the light that falls through very tall windows
three clay bowls sit.
They are unbroken.
They hold the lessons.
Please be careful if you clean.
OHMYWORD!!!! Kit!!! Hello! And yes yes a thousand times yes, I remember you, and nobody ever calls me Etiennette anymore (except a few carefully chosen computer programs, where I've called myself that because I love it so much). I am so very pleased to hear from you! (I'm on facebook, so send me a friend request if you are too.) And - just - wow. That anything I said back then has been so helpful to you - I just have no words. So much gratitude. Thank you so much for finding me again! It's wonderful to know you're well.
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