My cat-eyed glasses always dipped
below my right eyebrow because
my ears are set sigodlin on my head.
I cried when my teacher asked why
I couldn’t keep my glasses straight
on my face. I tucked a Kleenex wad
under the ear piece but it fell out.
Mavis Crisp called me four eyes and
laughed, showing green teeth, see-sawing
her hands in front of her own eyes.
I begged for contacts at the eye
exam. Not old enough he said.
Then he bent the ear piece down some.
Sliding the new pair on my face, he smiled.
5 comments:
Reckon whatever happened to old Mavis? Do you remember her daddy coming into Mre. Elders fourth grade class for some reason and he showed us how he could wiggle his ears? Strange the things we remember, huh?
I have no idea what happen to her, Robin. I can't remember her after the 6th grade. Reckon they moved? I don't remember her daddy's ears either. But then my daddy was a good ear-wiggler so perhaps I didn't find it very remarkable. :-)
Hey, I like the comment, "Reckon whatever happened to old Mavis?" That sounds like a good last line to the poem. thanks.
I, too, remember Mavis. She was the tallest, skinniest person in our school. I think she actually ended up in my grade after "falling behind" a year.
I'm lovin' your blog, Carol. I found it through Robin's.
Cindy
P.S. I got my glasses in the 5th grade, too. Mine were pink cat eyes.
Oh goodness. Thanks, Cindy. I'm enjoying Robin's, too. Wish I had more time for this one. We need to locate all blogs of Turkey Paw origin, don't we? Make a collection.
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