I never think of Lincoln’s birthday
that I do not think of his silhouette,
the one that I cut from black construction paper
and glued to white sheet construction paper,
and then hung above the blackboard
across the front of the classroom,
the classroom on the south side of the building
probably second grade, Miss Seymore’s room,
one whole wall was windows and there was lots of light
illuminating the row of Abes,
deep black against starch white,
crisp clipped edges trimmed with rounded edge scissors,
left me feeling that there did not seem
to be a single thing
not to like about the man.