When I told Janet about the poems I have written through the years,
She said, "Mr. Damico, it's sad. They'll turn to dust and disappear.
If you'll let me help you file, in order, all your poetry,
I'll gather a list of contests and publishers who'll take your poetry."
We worked well together. I was straight man for her repartee.
She a high school teacher on sabbatical avoiding boring days.
Leaving the poems with her, I left to visit sisters in New York State.
Janet almost revealed t