12/365 Stephanie

I admire you:

in seven departmental years I've learned about
resisting administrative strangleholds
insisting on clarity and quality
even as we struggle through reams of
bureaucratic bullshit:
"initiatives"
"innovations"
"excellence"
*sigh*

You embody excellence:
living your life your way
in your body
with your daughters
granddaughter (new grandson)

11/365 Angele

black patent-leather wedges
ecru silk quilted coat
coppered hair: serious bangs

didn't think I'd write about a new student
not by midterm time but
I know you: Bemidji: familiar

eyebrow arched over blue-green eyes
critical of every thing I/we/they say
just what I like to see: question authority

10/365 Florence

Birdie look-alike: cotton-haired, bird-boned,
skin crinkled like softened wax paper,
smiling anticipatingly.

In the midst of your 98th year, most among Minnesota
townsprairieswoods people who
huntfishcamp share laughs over beer
or coffee and nutmeg cookies, baked by you and
smuggled by we grandkids from the yellow milk-glass jar.

9/365 Cheryl

Passionate and quick about
life and language, you
can be a challenge
to work with, but

you know this. You
keep trying anyway, every
way, to make the
world, your classroom, a

better place, the place
where we all want
to work. We hope
you keep doing so.

8/365 Kelsie

You're a brand new mama:
imagine that, sweet niece.

Five generations:
plan for photo shoots this spring, posing mama, grandma, great-grandma, great-great grandma - and baby girl.

We women:
grandmother and great-aunt can't help but remember our own first birthings, not that long ago, it seems. Or maybe it is.

7/365 Ray

Watching you teach
taught me that you
flirt with everyone, even
Shakespeare, charming provoker of
conversation and consternation, a
master at mixing serious with sensual . . .

like you.

I've watched you since
the last millennium: loud-mouthed
at conferences, not afraid to
critique, challenge, cajole,
refute, reward, embrace . . .

thank you.

6/365 Mary

Teacher mother artist mentor friend,
Your blues
aren't:
they're like blood the
stuff of art
of life
they're the living indigo found
in Your studio
on paper cloth yarn fiber art
even Your walls wear deep color
every room an invitation
a declaration
an instantiation
of Your force.

5/365 Jerry

Realizing that
I'm more
like you
than not
came early
in my
adulthood: I'm
still adjusting.

So too
the high
expectations we
have for
others but
most insistently
for ourselves.

Our shared
temperaments: protective,
fierce, sure,
sometimes inflexible.

Suzanne watches
it all,
shaking her
head with
a smile.

4/365 Jane

We're pictured together, often: yin-yang curiosities
in handmade gingham sunsuits.
They say opposites attract, but
I say opposites simply exist:
we exist
two sisters in
one family, learning our
selves as we watch the "not that" in the other.
Thus, I've learned from you: I'm lucky: thank you.

3/365 Zoe

Smidgen

: brilliant daughter
: superior charmer of fathers (two grands, one best)
: feeler, see-er, knower of things lived and literary

both light *and* heat since arrival, you blazed
onto the planet -- shining, sharing, showing off --
ready for the big-enough stage. "I don't want
regrets," you pronounced at 11.

Yes

: you

2/365 Stefan

Munchable:
the unexpected, the protected, you
arrived on your own schedule, early and eager,
plumped up like a weeble with snicker-bar feet.

You've thrived to become the "speaks in paragraphs" son of your father:
splendidly, insistently,
the creature who's made
me a mother.

What an excellent teacher, creature.

1/365 Josh

All beginnings and middles start
with you: here
or not, there
or not.

Endings, I'm not so sure about, but
they, too, must start with you.
If I hadn't met
you, what? No
Stefan, no
Zoe, no
joy.

Most significant person in the course of my life:
: surprise.