On my first day of school
My first friend was a boy
Who laughed at everything
We did on the playground.

He laughed on the high swings
And laughed on the teeter-totter
And laughed when he fell down
At the sound of the school bell.

His eyes squeezed shut. His cheeks
Crinkled against his nose.
His chin came jutting forward
And his mouth went Haw haw haw.

And I laughed too, but stopped
When we all marched up the stairs
And into the first grade
Of John Greenleaf Whittier

Grade school to learn how
To count and spell our names
And grow up and sing songs
And listen and sit still.

But my friend wouldn't behave.
He pointed at me and pointed
Around the room and stared
And laughed and sang to himself.

At noon, the teacher whispered
In his ear, gave him a note,
And said he should go now.
He cried. He cried like a baby,

And I walked home with him
Along the sandstone alley
To the tall gray broken house
Where his father read the message—

A quiet man, as short
As we were, with a mustache,
Suspenders, and four teeth—
Who told him to go to bed.

And that's what my friend did.
His father took a breath,
Nodded, shook my hand,
Smiled, and gave me an apple,

And as I crossed their yard,
My friend in a nightgown
Leaned out the attic window
And called my name and laughed.