Dragging Out An Old Poem

Recently I was sorting through some old poems I had written and found this one. It drew me back to the years when I was teaching. Because of the nature of the poem, I could not help but recall the faces of several of my students who passed away much too young. Some died in car accidents or from insidious illnesses, there was a suicide or two, and then, there was this incident that prompted me to write a poem. David died just two weeks into the school year. He died from huffing, breathing in fumes from an aerosol paint can. It was a shock way back in 1992 and I remember the moment I found out as if it were yesterday.

I’m not sure students always understand what an impact they may have on their teachers. Fortunately I have many happy, joyful memories as well, but thought I’d share this poem on my blog today.

A Poem for David

You were quiet

in my class

for two weeks.

Yet your face

is etched

in my memory.

I remember you

on Monday,

standing,

head cocked aside,

a smile

catching my eye,

letting me know

that you were

alive and well,

well and ready

to make another person

a part of you

whether you knew it

or not.

Now,

for some reason,

a reason that

no one can answer,

I’ll never know

your secrets.

The assignment

had been given:

to display graphically

your role in society.

You did, and

you did not.

Your depiction,

not completed,

can only be conjured

in my mind now.

You walked into

my life, David,

for two short weeks,

until a secretive self,

quirkily, quietly,

slipped silently away,

a powerful, permanent

aftershock suffocating

my senses

for a lifetime.

                                                                                    Judith DeChesere 9/20/92