To Our Teachers
Old romantics pass by with gitty grins andsquinting eyes.
Silly schoolboys in love with no lovers by side,
I cannot but wonder why
When seeds wretched in idle misery, their
spirits bless-ed be high?
Tears fill the burnt gray sky and they with
gitty grins and squinting eyes.
It is as if they hover above, or soar
supreme on dauntless love,
Gazing upon us seeds and seeing us
as we ourselves cannot see,
As hearts and minds and blossoming trees,
thirsty with stiff roots and gentle leaves.
How well they know the Four Winds is shown by the many
blows they've suffered, yet carry on.
And how blessed I may be when I die to meet the end
with a gitty grin and squinting eyes.
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