Several readers of these poems
have pointed out ( last night
my friend David he doesn’t like
poems very much but he reads
these and does like some) and two other
people several readers mentioned
so that I would know
that I have made some
grammatical errors the last few months,
not severe but still.
Once the subject and predicate
did not agree. My best English teacher ever
was in grammar school. She’d been
a grammar school classmate herself
with my father. Her name was Mary C. Lane.
The C. was never revealed even though
I asked her to tell me, as a high school
graduation gift. She said no.
She came because she knew
all of us from our fifth grade sentences.
“Grammar,” she said once, “is as important
as words.” I didn’t know what she meant,
but I wrote it down.