Camp School Suite by Robert Demaree

1.
Next to our cottage is a tutoring camp;
My father taught there summers ago.
I walk along the lane behind the tents
They use for classrooms
And listen to the commingled voices
Of young teachers and their kids.
Much of it is new and strange, of course,
But some I recognize:
Third person plural, active voice…
What Gatsby really means…
And I am carried back to
Forty years in schools:
A mug of coffee
To put my hand around on cool mornings,
A smile for the 14-year-old,
Embarrassed at his mistake,
Wanting to try again.

2.
I came upon my father’s grade book today,
On the cottage shelf
Where we left it when he died,
Twenty years ago now.
I wish that he’d retired
While his memories were all good ones.
I see him in his classroom on the pond,
Leaning forward, wanting to tell a boy or two,
Sullen, not unkind, needing credits,
About the Generation of ’98,
But struggling with the preterite, I think.
Then the meaning comes to me:
A tutor is someone who keeps you safe.

3.
There’s this to be said for adolescents,
They are able to form communities quickly.
The kids at the camp school
Arrive in June, a hundred of them,
All strangers to each other.
In five weeks they have bonded,
So that, gathered as a group,
They are able to call out,
In noisy recognition and friendship,
Yeah, Stacy-y-y-y,

This afternoon they read their poems,
Itself an act of courage,
And they invite me to take part.
After the reading a girl of 16 or so
Wants to ask about the
Craft and discipline of poetry.
She has read with confidence and feeling.
What is required, she asks,
What must one do?
Listen, I tell her,
Listen and watch.

4.
The tents by the Teaching Grove are empty,
Will be coming down soon.
I walk along the lane
And hear echoes of the summer,
Of the voices of teachers and students,
Waiting to be scattered.
What has been gained here,
What will be remembered
Of these five weeks?
Friends they may not see again,
The confidence to start afresh
At new schools in different places,
The teachers who persuaded them
That they could write,
Or draw, or succeed.
The teachers will file their reports,
Take their own kids
For a last look at the pond,
Lash kayaks
To the tops of their cars.



Robert Demaree is the author of four book-length collections of poems, including Other Ladders, published in 2017 by Beech River Books. His poems have received first place in competitions sponsored by the Poetry Society of New Hampshire and the Burlington Writers Club. He is a retired school administrator with ties to North Carolina, Pennsylvania and New Hampshire. Bob’s poems have appeared in over 150 periodicals, including Cold Mountain Review and Louisville Review.