Poetry
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Those Leaving the Central Office Blues

In leaving now the COB
I muse on misty memories
That with cookies and this peachy punch
Iíll share with those who arenít at lunch

When I came to work one bright June day
The place was in a disarray
Construction crews filled every floor
With Steelcase, wire, walls, and doors

The job was just as crazy then
With dreamy eyes we looked to when
The floor was finished and life returned
To normalówell, since then weíve learned

And knowing now Iíve grown to love
The morning thoughts and stories of
The Stanley Peterson cat encounters
And the cleansing of transaction counters

The luncheon food for those who come
To eat before curriculum
And the Christmas partyóI mean reception
Was always great without exception

Banana spits on Halloween
That parking place Iíve never seen
And excitement when a job was done
Iíll miss it all; itís been so fun

But Iíll trade it for a room of kids
And the chance to help them tap their ids
Oh the fun weíll have! The hearts weíll reach
If Brother Bell will let me teach

So as I leave the COB
And muse those misty memories
Iíll raise my head and dry my tears
Til I return for a period of three to five years