In memory of Harriet Rogers

A new teacher,

I learned to fear the
flash of blue sneakers,
tied on feet swifter
than any DCL champion
you’ve known.  Moreover,

she struck without warning:
“You’ll be in the faculty show,
won’t you?” and the thing about
Harriet is that there was no
real way to say “No,”
any more than you could say
“No” to some force of nature
that wanted to shake the ground
beneath your feet, or blow you
into the next county. You looked
into that face, eyes twinkling,
and the damn pixie dust just fell
all over you, great showers of the
stuff. Oh, forget years

of stage fright, forget lessons
unprepared, sleep lost
or lines forgotten. Harriet
asked, and you knew that this
sun would rise no matter
what, and you responded
in the only way a mere mortal

“OK, so when’s rehearsal?”
and you began to see your
name in lights.

September 1998


All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
Contact Bill Schechter