31/365: empty classroom

after hours the classroom feels like a cave -
I never bother turning on all the lights
and so in the dimness I take account
like an anthropologist
of the artifacts the students leave
to mark their territory:
name plates, jars of candy,
an exercise ball rolled under the desk instead of a chair.
Some books, papers - pictures of their kids,
pictures by their kids.

yesterday they graduated - today I pass through
and all these things are gone -
like a primitive band of hunters
they have pulled up stakes
and all that is left are empty chairs.

I want to call them back -
wait - there was something else I wanted to tell you
it's the good part -
the punch line -
one final analogy that will bring it all together for you.

but I am already history -
part of a finished story.
it dawns on me that I am kin
with the painting of the cave bear.
I was never the teller at all.