As he talked about all things ,
i found myself staring out the window,
looking at the wooded, slow-sloping hill beyond the lake.
And from the classroom,
things did seem connected the trees seemed to clothe the hill,
and just as I would never think one
to notice a particular cotton thread in the shirt he wore that day,
I couldn't see the trees in the forest,
Everything so woven together that it made no sense,
To think of one tree as independent from that hill.
And then I heard my name and I knew I was in trouble.
"Mr," the Old Man said, "here I am, straining my lungs and yet something out there caught you".
Throwing me out of the the class,
We're not even allowed to glance out of the window.
I stuffed my notebook and walked out, humiliated.
As the door shut behind me, i felt a tap on my left shoulder.
I turned and there was no one there....