Feathered Aspen


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Poems from S. Alternative School

A poem I wrote for sweet T. One day, I was sitting on the desk lecturing, and the sun was in my face. I considered moving, but the classroom was cold, and the sun felt warm. After a couple minutes, T. put her hand in front of her face and said, “Ms. Kuhne, the light be bouncin’ off you and hurtin’ my eyes!” I laughed, and asked her if she was calling me white:

I came here, new.

Shining so bright, so white,
It hurt their eyes.
A poem I wrote about a classroom in S. Alternative School. I came home every day coated in chalk:
A podium of milk crates.
Pencils, everywhere pencils.
Air thick with the dust
of Sea Creatures.
Pretty self-explanatory. How I felt about the Bayou last year:
Bayou knows no gravity;
It rises, thick and wet
to pull me under.