RR (13-7-31 (see reverse) / Chennai born, now at Juhu, Mumbai, India)

The Poetry of Bad Weather

Someone had propped a skateboard
by the door of the classroom,
to make quick his escape, come the bell.

For it was February in Florida,
the air of instruction thick with tanning butter.
Why, my students wondered,

did the great dead poets all live north of us?
Was there nothing to do all winter there
but pine for better weather?

Had we a window, the class could keep an eye
on the clock and yet watch the wild plum
nod with the absent grace of the young.

by Debora Greger

Comments (2)

Hah hah…exactly this story is found in book of Srimat Swami Bhuteshanadaji Maharaj [12th president of R.K. Mission and Math] …presented very nicely… Thanks for sharing… Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10 PS Srimat Swami Bhuteshanadaji Maharaj was most witty and fun loving Maharaj and on humor a book has been published as ‘Rashabodh’ [in Bengali] n
To the pleader's demand for fees. 'Bey, Bey, ' the client said with ease, And walked out to his surprise. tit fo rtat game for pleders from scoundrels....