With my sincerest apologies to Robert Frost for what I’ve done to his snowy woods.
This stack of papers here they grow
Using this rubric sure is slow
Cannot sleep, disturbing the flow
Grades due so soon, oh no.
I’d like to end my grading here
And let this assessment just go.
You must think my assessment queer
To grade until morning is near.
I’ve had all of this Common Core rubric I can take
The grades are not too good I fear.
I reassess and give my head a shake
And ask if this grade is a mistake.
The only sound’s the pen’s sweep
Common Core writing is not cake.
Some with analysis so deep.
Yet so many more still to reach,
And papers to go before I re-teach,
And papers to go before I re-teach.