“Harper Lee and Me”

hour after hour, day after day, year after year    
the cadence of her words     
rose and fell in my classroom  

in Jean Louise’s coveralls  

walking in someone else’s skin   
I meandered through Maycomb’s streets  
treasuring two soap dolls, a broken watch and chain, a pair of 
    good-luck pennies
I led my students  
into that courtroom  
and stood in respect  

and I wept     

every single time  

hour after hour, day after day, year after year  
the cadence of her words  
rose and fell in my classroom  

“What would Atticus do?”  

wove into my discussions  
became a refrain   
became ingrained into who I am as a daughter, as a wife, as a 
                mother  
defined my humanity—   
my Gestalt 
I am a part of all I have met   

and so I wept   

every single time  

hour after hour, day after day, year after year  

the cadence of her words  
rose and fell in my life   

until I became the writer

with a draft of a novel in my desk 
and another tucked upon a closet shelf     
the lives I created guided by conscience      
renderings of myself in stark black and white  
so I understand a watchman  
and crossing time to set things right  

and I wept  

once again  

Copyright 2015 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman