Monday, August 19, 2019

echoes from his brilliance

I miss what was

I don’t like how it feels:
a fellow teacher’s classroom,
the materials for his teaching,
the ways, the things, 
with which he surrounded himself,
laid bare and needing to be removed,
what to save?
what to reuse?
what to throw away?
every decision momentous, and as nothing,

the world in his classroom
was one I only glimpsed,
I appreciated the artistry he lived within the classroom,
for I witnessed the kids’ joy in learning,
the kids’ coming into their power,
because of the teacher he was,
because of the love he freely gave,
even in the outrageous teasing he could do,

without him in this classroom,
all the things only echo from the world he created,

time has passed, 
the world has changed,
I miss what was,
and I sorrow.

by Henry H. Walker
August 16, ‘19

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