{"id":6399,"date":"2021-04-02T06:28:33","date_gmt":"2021-04-02T11:28:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/archive.onesentencepoems.com\/?p=6399"},"modified":"2021-04-02T11:22:12","modified_gmt":"2021-04-02T16:22:12","slug":"lynn-aprill-in-the-schoolhouse","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/archive.onesentencepoems.com\/?p=6399","title":{"rendered":"Lynn Aprill &#8220;In the Schoolhouse&#8221;"},"content":{"rendered":"<h1><span style=\"color: #000000;\"><strong>Lynn Aprill<\/strong><\/span><\/h1>\n<h2><span style=\"color: #800000;\">In the Schoolhouse<\/span><\/h2>\n<p>A summer bee bumbles through<br \/>\nthe window as we sit, a one-room<br \/>\nSunday school, in the schoolhouse<\/p>\n<p>where my father stood<br \/>\nwith his cousin-best-friend<br \/>\nand stared hard at the camera,<br \/>\ntough at ten, in the schoolhouse<\/p>\n<p>where my grandfather learned<br \/>\n8th grade arithmetic, then left<br \/>\nto start his life as a farmer-carpenter<br \/>\non land 500 yards from the schoolhouse<\/p>\n<p>that his grandfather built&#8211;that august immigrant<br \/>\nwho left his homeland just in time to fight<br \/>\na civil war in his new one, who missed<br \/>\nthe birth of my great-grandfather<br \/>\nwhile surviving the Battle of Nashville&#8211;<br \/>\nback in 1894 for $289.00, so that<\/p>\n<p>generations later, I can sit<br \/>\nat a wooden desk, tracing the ancient<br \/>\ncarvings of pocket knives, memorizing<br \/>\n\u201cBeautiful Savior,\u201d decorating egg carton<br \/>\ncrosses with plastic posies<br \/>\npilfered from the next-door neighbor<br \/>\ngraves of my ancestors.<\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p><em>Educator and poet <\/em><span style=\"color: #800000;\"><strong>Lynn Aprill<\/strong><\/span><em>\u2019s poems have appeared recently or are forthcoming in the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets calendar, Bramble, Pure Slush, and in her upcoming chapbook Channeling Matriarchs with Finishing Line Press.<\/em><\/p>\n<hr \/>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Lynn Aprill In the Schoolhouse A summer bee bumbles through the window as we sit, a one-room Sunday school, in the schoolhouse where my father stood with his cousin-best-friend and stared hard at the camera, tough at ten, in the schoolhouse where my grandfather learned 8th grade arithmetic, then left to start his life as [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1040,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"aside","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false}},"_wpscppro_dont_share_socialmedia":false,"_wpscppro_custom_social_share_image":0},"categories":[9],"tags":[654],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.5 - 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