DaveKemper.net

marlene wasn’t a 70’s name,
rolling off the tongue
like Lori or Linda or Corie
mär-’leen–with a hard r–
almost sounded matronly,
a great name for a great aunt

you wore your name well,
looking comfortably unkempt
(or should I say dowdy?)
in well-worn flannel shirts and
jeans that bagged at the knees

you had the brightest little eyes,
even behind your glasses,
curious eyes,
eyes of glee and understanding

and the quirkiest, most infectious little smile,
that you flashed often during the course
of a typical class period

and there certainly was a lot to amuse you:
     guys teasing girls, girls tsking guys
     M.D. begging for a pencil, answers, anything
     Cali needing to talk to Kim, right now!
     me, stumbling through a lesson–
the class, from time to time, almost out of control
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I’d like to think of you, marlene
as our very own Willa Cather,
sitting at the end of the row
(always on the edge)

absorbing all of our stories and silliness–
in hopes that you one day “felt the stirrings”
to write stories of your own
about life in this small town   

you were in 4th hour English, my first year,
always well-groomed and attentive,
a bit misplaced, perhaps, a young woman among girls

your handwriting slanted against the grain,
but neatly . . .
it looked a lot like my mother’s–
stylish, in good taste

you seemed perfectly contented in class,
even though my assignments certainly weren’t
very stimulating or challenging,
and I thank you for that

I was lucky enough to have you in class again
when you were a high school sophomore,
still somewhat quiet and inward, but in a good way,
you had good karma

a parting snapshot:
I can still see you snickering when Scout says,
“Pass the damn ham” in To Kill a Mockingbird.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I met  you some years later in the union
at the local state university
you were studying in the school of business
to become, I suppose, another numbers cruncher

I thought you would become a teacher 
with classrooms full of lucky 10 and 11 year olds
oh lordy, what a good one you would have made
with that smile and steadiness

 I see you
reading and laughing with the kids,
protecting them and helping them do good work–
a real catcher in the rye–
that, anyway, is the image I want to keep

if I had commissioned a plaque for each one of my students
yours would read, “Dani Ford,
the nicest, most composed young lady I knew.”