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By Alma Roberts Giordan / May 4, 1995

Remember me?

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After half a century?

The skinny one with all

those dreams you dubbed

(sans rivalry) Class Poet?

Well, I have news for you:

Inside these present pudgy

pounds of steel-gray grandmother

still strains that slender girl

with dreams timeworn

but (almost all) intact.

Remember me?

Unvanquished kid whose ribs

stuck out? The soul-stirred one

with dreams to spare?

To share?