she wore
her hair
in one long braid,
wound around
the top of her head
until it became
an alabaster pillbox –
prim standard
of her unwavering
propriety.
she was neither
oblivious to
its effect
upon her pupils
nor deterred by
our unruly gibes –
in the end,
the pillbox prevailed
(so it continued
through april --
we flouted
every primer,
learning nothing).
six a.m.
one bright may morning,
early to school,
i padded mischievously
down the asbestos corridor
to peer in
at her classroom door;
puckish surprise
my puerile aim.
inside,
she sat –
a septuagenarian sylph
serenely brushing
six feet of
undulating alban
gossamer.
i remember
weightlessness,
reverie,
light
and music;
nothing in
nine years
on earth
had prepared me
for such
ineffable
radiance.
i stood
transfixed;
one glorious moment
in Dian’s presence
before backing away
with shame
hissing
in every cilia.
later,
her immaculate cataract
restored to
pristine cylindrical obeisance,
she expounded upon
the virtues of cursive
and made perfect
chalk spirals
to inspire
fit chirography.
having seen her,
i scribbled stupidly
and dreamed of
wings ...
About Rich Follett:
Rich Follett has recently returned to writing poetry after a thirty-year hiatus. He lives in the sacred and timeless Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, where he joyfully teaches English and Theatre Arts for high school students. His poems have appeared in BlazeVox, Exercise Bowler, Calliope Nerve, Leaf Garden, Four Branches Press and Counterexample Poetics, for which he is a Featured Artist. He is the co-author of Responsorials (with Constance Stadler) and the solo collection Silence, Inhabited for NeoPoiesis Press, which will publish his second solo collection, Human &c. late in 2012.
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