Aug 24, 2017 · 1 min read
I was never one to enjoy August (or Sundays) and since two decades have passed in retirement that feeling has persisted. Your poem made me weep and seemed to break the dam that persisted throughout decades of youthful schooling and years in the education profession. Always a dread of what would be beginning and what would be left behind…despite how much I knew I would come to treasure what lay ahead…