ABSENCE

The classroom feels bigger now,
empty chair a gaping space.
Your laughter, a ghost echo
in the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights.

I reach for a lesson plan,
and find myself wondering,
"What would you have said?"
The answer used to bloom so easily,
now it’s a hesitant bud, unsure of sun.

You were the compass pointing north,
the gentle hand correcting a shaky line.
You saw the teacher I could be,
even when I stumbled, doubting myself.

Now I walk this path alone,
but not entirely.
The seeds you planted are sprouting,
lessons learned, forever growing
into the teacher I am becoming.