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9.21.15 AnastasiaYermanos

 

(This visually
impaired writer teaches Spanish at the San Diego Braille Institute for the Blind. One of the group, a lady from Greece, whose mother was Swiss, allowed us to include French in the class. Quite suddenly, she was taken from us. This is a tribute.)

 

Stacey, we called her – what a gal!

Stately was more like it – more like an Old World pal.

In Spanish class, she
was Usted, never, tú;

Because of her
persona, it was the right thing to do.

She lived in an era
of white gloves and hats;

When she was a child,
dandies wore spats.

She came from a
Europe that's now in the books.

Before the Swastika and master-race kooks;

A blend of two
peoples, in language she thrived.

Throw in the piano –
no jive –

The classics enthralled
her – Mozart and Chopin.

Her world was
elegance – yes, pearls in a strand.

She showed breeding
all over;

Was polite in speech;

A painting in clover;

But, not out of
reach.

Her warm, human nature

Embraced you on
sight.

In Braille
nomenclature,

See you, she might.

But, still, in her
presence,

You always felt warm.

There was something
about her –

Her still, quiet
charm.

Adieu, Stacey, cherie,

Adiós, goodbye

But, no –
au revoir to thee,

'Til we
meet, bye and bye.

 

 

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

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