in the end
you’re not sure much really matters.
you write your letter of retirement
after 21 years,
whether you want to or not.
you collect your sick-leave bank
and hope you won’t need it
in the near future.
you say goodbye to grading papers,
to whiteboards,
to learning-management systems,
and to redundant meetings
where things are discussed
and discussed again,
cussed and cussed again.
you can reminisce about students
and success, think about
all the eager minds you’ve enlightened,
and question
if any of it really matters.
you can think back fondly
upon friends and colleagues
and all the aha-moments.
but the things you’ll miss the most
upon exiting the academy:
standing alone
reflecting upon nothing
in an empty classroom,
walking the silent lonely halls
after dark,
strolling across campus
on an early-summer afternoon,
flowers in bloom, birdsong in the air,
while everyone else
is on holiday.