Harboured from harm by high stone walls,
unacademic and sports-coach never called;
– spartan-lunches schooled us in justice,
Quaker-soaked silence this rebel trusted.
O sweet those three special girls adored,
shoe-skidded those waxed parquet floors;
readily I joined rowdy-night pillow fights,
unsanctioned walks in early-dawn light.
Long-anticipated each supper dance,
psychedelic strobes, surreptitious glances;
late-sixties student, born to be wild:
underground sounds, flower child.
Art, English and Music held appeal,
nothing else needed, my Achilles Heel;
grateful for many issued detentions,
bullies long-gone, names I won’t mention.
School report true: my existence “aimless”
my challenging conduct, far from blameless;
this academic failure, sometime class clown –
still missed old school – farewell Newtown…
photos: Dora Kazmierak www.instagram.com/dorakazmierak/