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Ghosts of the Past

One by one,
      the tale is told,
not so new,
      the stories old.
From out of the past
      they come to haunt me,
for me to learn,
      their songs do taunt me.
Onion layers
      to peel away,
breaking patterns
      for me today.
The schoolroom
      is my life on earth,
the hardest lessons
      to which gave birth.
A student now,
     a teacher then,
reverse the roles,
     I'm back again.
Aiming for a clearer space,
    my blackboard heart
      I now erase.

 

 

kay ekwall  ©1998

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Web Design and poetry copyright by Kay E. Ekwall 2009, use only by permission by request