I was invited to submit a poem for an anthology recently on the topic of parent/teacher conferences. This poem turned out to be not quite right for the project, but I'm rather happy with it just the same.
WHEN GRANDPA FORGOT
When Grandpa forgot
it was conference day,
we sat there together,
just my teacher and me,
in that almost-empty classroom
on a Tuesday afternoon.
My teacher gave me
an apple slice from her lunch bag.
She told me about
long hikes she likes to take
in the summer
with her big, gray dog;
about her little brother
who lives far, far away;
and about the
blue-glass bottles she collects
on her kitchen shelf.
It was, I think, the first time
I had my teacher
all to myself.
When Grandpa arrived,
out of breath,
embarrassed,
and much too late,
they said they’d meet
on a different date.
I sort of hope
maybe then
Grandpa will forget again.
- Eric Ode, copyright 2018
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