2/3 train, 96th Street to Clark Street, May 11th, 2015
It’s not as easy for me to find high school age poets. So I asked my neighbor. She worked so hard at this poem, harder than almost any poet. I was surprised. She had accepted the task so readily. While she was pondering, I asked, “Are you in high school?” “No.” Wow, she is older than I thought. “College?” “No.” “Middle school?” I was incredulous. “No.” “On my goodness, what grade are you in?” “5th grade.” I was stunned. Dumbfounded. I did not ask her in the same way I would have asked a child. She was extremely mature, thoughtful and intelligent. After the first line she said, “I did not mean to make it rhyme but I discovered a rhyme in the first sentence.” She plays the viola. I will be a bit more careful now with my presumptions about age.

Tick Tock time flys by
Sometimes I sit and wonder
why with family + friends
when your having a good
time then some time
you’ll have to say goodbye
but don’t cry because after
the moment is over you
could always write about
it in a poem

Read a poem by Azza E.

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