The Outing

After reading this poem, we all walked down to the cemetery where we picked an object and wrote poems in the same style, beginning with, "How must it be to be...." The kids who complained that the whole outing was creepy wrote morbid sad poems and they were delighted with their own handiwork. They had to have me read their pieces the second they were done. They annoyed me on the way back screaming at all the cars to honk, but while we were there, I was well pleased.