When I was ten
I wrote my name in mud
On the red brick of the schoolhouse.

Then everyday for six weeks
I came to see if the rain had washed away my name.

Finally it was gone.


I don’t remember
How the hockey team did that year
I don’t remember
Who my teacher was
I don’t remember
The name of the little girl
Who sat beside me
That I sort of liked
I don’t even remember
Who was my best friend was that year…

But I remember the mud.