I remember classes on broken
mornings, following nights of
shattered sleep,

I remember words falling from
my mouth like marbles
bouncing off a tiled floor,

So many times thinking, there's
no way, this mountain's
way too high,

hands bleeding, exhausted,
losing my

when I heard a voice nearby,
a cool breeze blowing,
the hand held out, then

the words, "Hi, Mr. Schechter,
the smile, the class so
glad to see me.

Oh, how many times they saved
me, pulled up a falling
man, but never knew.

April 10, 2006

All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
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