Grading Failure

Dust motes thick, a fuzzy curtain

across the attic window pane.

This cardboard box, a cheap, uncertain

container for what childhood contained.

Then there it is, a folded sheet,

the paper thin, the edges worn.

A bright red 'C-' that can’t be beat

for making all my present morn

feel like that day. The ink a smudge,

teacher's complaint, "Lacks focus, see."

A grade that promised I would trudge

a path decidedly not me.