Beautiful Dust

We’ll Be Here When We’ve Repeated Everything

1-2-3 you said. A-B-C. Over and over and over.
Last year you measured out syllables in triplet
Bursting away from your work in raucous but predictable beats.

But you’ve grown so tall this year;
Just one way I’ve seen you change
From the squirming boy I met two years ago.

Your shoulders sit heavy with promises you think you cannot keep.
And I hear the small sniff that betrays how you really feel
Beneath that bravado.

Your voice is deeper now, and you speak
With more maturity than everyone gives you credit for.
I think you hope for what you could be with that voice.

And you write words that make everyone wide-eyed
Though you made me cry
Because you know that you want to succeed the way you want to breathe.

My jack-in-the-box boy, somehow you heard me
When I told you “bad” wasn’t your name.
My dear student, you make me proud, proud, proud.