Abby Jackson

Abby Jackson

I'm sorry Miss Jackson. Oooo.. Are you for real?

I never knew your social justice side.

I apologize for all the times,

We played ultimate back in Wisconsin,

I never asked what you studied, 

Or about your passions,

But from the looks of it,

What you're doing's so important,

Moving people forward,

Planning for something to turn toward.

The formerly incarcerated in your home state,

Have just had an angel drop onto their plate.

Strawberry blond, 

Cherry clothes she reps hard,

A badger till death, doing thing avant-grade.

Opening up avenues that have been previously barred,

Engaging the citizens most severely scarred.

Teaching men to fish or so to speak,

She's designing a new Wisco for the meek.

Abby, it's all quite impressive,

Just like your frisbee game.

You still playing with the Cows,

And going out to the Dane?

It may sound lame,

But I haven't picked up a disk. 

Now this poem has got me to reminisce,

About the games when,

It was you, me and a bunch of men.

I'm running out of time, 

This poem has reached its' end. 

But I got to say,

I'm glad we're Facebook friends.

Keep doing great things for the community,

Let's try to meet up when I'm in the city!