In My School Shoes
by Jill Gabriel

Abandoned one-room schoolhouse murmurs of scabbed knees
chapped lips and stacked textbooks.
I walk in, a giant,
look for initials of puppy love on wooden desks,
look for roots of me.
I sit, wait for a voice from another desk.
Under crown moldings in upper and lower case
the cursive alphabet.
Within the semantics of subject and object
I marked my tidy notebook with choices.
I drew circles and squares
dreamed big and small
felt cold and hot
saw black and white
wrote a good world with indelible ink.
In the classroom in my pretty dress
I articulated single words
house, sand, dog, air
looked out the windows and thought
there’s more to it than this.
Now I do sums
assign numbers to everything
paint age-specific colors
shape skin from clay.
Again I am what I always was.



                     ____________________________


Jill Gabriel is a walker in the Hudson Valley and a catboat sailor on
Cape Cod.  Her poetry has appeared in
Space and Time magazine,
New Verse News, Time of Singing, and Inside Cape Cod magazine.  


Previous Page    Apple Valley Review, Fall 2006    Next page
Apple Valley Review:
A Journal of Contemporary
Literature
 

ISSN 1931-3888

Volume 1, Number 2
(Fall 2006)

Copyright © 2006
by Leah Browning, Editor.  

All future rights to material
published in the
Apple
Valley Review
are retained
by the individual authors
and artists.

www.applevalleyreview.com