When you were strained
tighter than the E
on your violin
that you knew better than your own laugh
you wrote a paper
for a class project.
Years later
I read it
-sorry for the invasion-
and in it
you said you had a brother
that made you smile.
Well I'm here
and I will do it again.
The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
2 comments:
Berkley, thank you. No one's ever written a poem about me. I really like it. That was when we lived in The Woodlands. You were about 8 and you'd chase us with outstretched arms yelling, "Hug-a-bug!"
I love the part "you were strained tighter than the E string on your violin" - I sure was that stressed out in H.S.
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