On a tiny patch
Of Midwest ground
European immigrants
Founded my town
In those Mississippi bottoms
They planted fields
And paid their bills
With farming’s yields
Hard work it was
Getting fields plowed
A town very small
But proud, very proud
A quiet place
To be a kid
Everybody knew
Everything you did
I don’t remember
My first school day
No way
But I got there
And I’m sure I cried
On meeting the teacher
Standing inside
Memories lost in time and space,
But I remember Mrs. O’Brien
And her strong, stern face
A grandmotherly type
Except for a frown
She taught us to read
And write things down
I was sick with asthma
Missing many a class
At the end of the first year,
Not sure if I’d pass
But they pushed me to grade two
Where I learned cursive writing
And created messes with glue
To make Mother’s Day exciting
I was on my way
But had no idea
That before too long
Things would get real
I was still talking
To Santa and his elves
Too young to have
A sense of self
I learned about numbers
And spelling bees
With Mrs. Miller
In year three
By the time
I’d reached the grade of eight
Self-awareness started
Plus, girls were great
A clock was ticking, though
In Fowler town
Just three more years
I’d be around
But first was high school
Unity High
Freshman year seemed
It would never pass by
But finally it did
And that was awesome
Because as a student
I began to blossom
Math caught my eye
And chemistry class
But it all was over
In a flash
To Oklahoma we went
All our belongings in a truck
Fingers crossed
We needed the luck
Which we fortunately had, abundantly
I’ve learned so much since then
Many years, many schools
Fulfilling experiences
A few broken rules
But looking back
It is easy to say
I am who I am
Thanks to my Fowler days
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