Chalk

It’s better when the desks are empty,
The other students gone, and you’re left
Alone, one nine-paned window open

On the sunny, green-leaved afternoon
Outside, a small breeze slipping inside,
Dissipating the strong smell of chalk.

You’re sensing in present tense, but this
Can’t be present, can it? The desk chairs
And the old wooden window, maybe,

But that memory of chalk’s just you,
Elderly person in a schoolroom,
Triggered by emptiness and windows

To remember how it felt better,
When you were young, to be the last one
At the end of the day, the last one.