* * * * * * * * * * * *

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T E A C H E R

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(For Pat Stovall)

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I still hear the echoes

of the door you closed behind you.

Detached, I can see me watching

as you walked out…

Ten years later,

I begin to recover, to learn.

How many times I have stepped back,

seen myself follow you

from our old office to your new classroom

across miles and years

that distance us more each day.

How many times I have thought myself

standing in your schoolyard

with bouquets of primary colors

and rainbows of balloons,

clutching a confusion of leashed goats.

Your students always ask who I am…

From the green campus, only your eyes

visible in the all white building…

you turn away.

Today, you work your skills on younger minds,

equally naïve and sensitive.

Somewhere now, other lads listen and learn

fall under your spell,

their slow knowledge lost in this adoration.

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---Richard G. Beyer

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Published in the April, 2006 online issue of SouthLit.com

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