"Stepping Up"

We made the sugar doughnuts in a pot of oil last night,
The folks from Costa Rica and their local cousins – right
Here in the kitchen of our home – two boys with families,
And recipe great-grandma gave to generations these.

Each took their place and played a part (’cept baby Nicholas);
We beat, and stirred, and sifted, laughed as flour covered us;
When done, we shook our product in a bag of sugar fine,
Then munched upon our product at this special Christmas time.

Just like the poem’s project of a bench each student made,
Then took back to their farmsteads, so, cuts sanded, lines they’d laid;
For learning is a mix of moving us from where we are,
To where we’ll soon be living – not the same, but not too far.

I hate it when the obstacles are those now found within,
As aging-teacher eggs forgets, much needed to begin;
But second son steps to the plate, and fetches twelve from store;
A part of lesson not forgotten – learned some years before.

“Augmented text” (with photographs) have ambiguity;
Those shoes – are they the teacher’s ones? Who’s is the picture’s view?
Is there another in the pix? What does the pix suggest?
Still-life refers to life outside the frame, when at its best).

I had not seen the pencil stub until last line was read,
Then it became the focal point to which the story led;
Self-learning goes beyond the bounds of teacher’s best-laid plans –
So what is best remembered often goes to foreign lands.

Thanks Lord for this.

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