Class Notes

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Rhina P. Espaillat

Class Notes

 

      I had a student once who couldn’t write.
      Well, one of many. But this boy was bright,
      fizzing with thoughts he felt he had to clothe
      in verses, if you please! And I was loath
      to stem a tide so eager in its flow.
      We bent over his work together: “No,”
      I’d say, “a little tighter here, a little less
      would make it stronger.” I did not say “mess”
      or crumple anything; I never . . .
      . . . . . . .
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