i was so excited.
i passed
the qualifying
exams for a 4 semester
Shakespeare course.
the good sisters had done their job.
they taught me the value of grammar
“strengthen the foundation and you
will be able to understand

the difficulty of any word,”
i could hear the tone of each nun’s voice
and now I would hear the voices of
jesuit priests
opening the pages inside my head
ten hours each week.
but after four hours
i felt i deserved a medal——
a Polish person pushing against
the pages of the Bard.
during the fifth hour of class time
there was a soft knock on the door,
i was summoned by two priests, i was sure it was a mistake but
everything collapsed in seconds

my father had died
he could hear my objection f rom his new position
in the sky.
even in death, he understood my reluctance.
i had just jumped into a new ocean of excitement
and now i was surrounded
by walls of flowers,
constant whispering,
the everpresent soft sound of tears.
everyone wanted to return to their breathing pad
make money
make love
become more powerful.
my father yawned and sank into a deeper sleep

i returned home to a fatherless house and rediscovered silence.
i could listen to the movement of my mother’s
rosary beads.
she was satisfied with my attention .
while she slept, i had a huge chunk of time to understand Mr. Shakespeare.
my concentration floated through each chapter with ease,
as we approached the end of the first semester
my classmates applauded
my recovery.
my mother’s sorrow embraced eternity,
my father turned over in his grave
and never thought of Mr. Shakespeare again.