As many of you know, in my formative years I was a sober child, not given to the hijinks and folderol of many of the baby boom generation. I took life seriously. For example I spent 1st-3rd grades studying Plato. (Although the English translation, as written on the brightly colored yellow can is “Play-dough”.)
My 4th-7th grade years were devoted to that age old question, “What is the meaning of Life?” I literally devoured this subject, internalizing Life in all its crunchy deliciousness. (Accompanied of course by plenty of ice-cold milk).
But 8th grade, ah, 8th grade. That is when I turned to poetry, Inspired by an assignment in Mrs. Farr’s English class, I wrote haiku by the boat load. I haikued on the bus, in Mr. Shelton’s math class and while doing my chores. I share with you now the finest work of that special season of learning. It is a poem that my children request often. Its meaning reaches across the years, touches every heart, and is deeper than Mt. Everest if you turned it upside down and pounded it into the earth until it was flush with Montana. Enjoy!
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