School Days

I'm from teachers unforgotten, from
P.S. 26 and a cement and rubber playground
from steel swings and slides
weeds in cracked cement and rooms of childhood imaginings.

I'm from a big old school named Rufus King
from ice-coated steps and crossing guards
from home for lunch with pizza on Fridays
and penny candy at the corner store

I'm from spelling bees and humiliation
from class plays and chorus songs
from dodge ball and kick ball
multiplication tables and long division

From the echoes of the school stairwell
and the cold smell of Pine Sol
from shiny shoes with buckles, white tights, and starchy dresses
and hair long and too curly--a girl with braces and
a shy smile who still lives inside me.