This poem was inspired by an article about the life of a virtual classroom teacher and by Jonathan Franzen’s op ed in the New York Times.
Student/Teacher Lament: Online Learning
I miss your face,
I miss the wrinkles that tell me you’re older than me,
Or prove it anyway, I miss the rolling of your eyes beneath
The furrowed brow as we say the pledge of allegiance.
I miss you and your asking me a question because you see
Me slacking in the corner of the room
You decorated with movie posters and origami cranes
I miss your room.
I miss your face,
The face that makes me know I have to be on my toes
Because of the mischievous grin that always lurks just
Below the surface as you recite the Gettysburg Address
I miss you and your questions that distract from the
Assigned work on the corner of the desk
You inscribed with initials and swirls.
I miss your desk.
And the other things missed are funny things like
Church bells and reggaeton, a palpable mood,
Sandalwood, and birthday wishes,
A surprising rearrangement of chairs, a hug, a shrug,
And a pat on the back, a new piercing, a stolen smile,
Acceptance, and the blooming of love.
Dare I say it? Dare I say that love had dominion?
And that I miss non-virtual love?
