WOMAN THE SECOND MOST

To me she wasn’t just a teacher

But more than that

To her it wasn’t a work,

For she loved what she did

Bell and bill didn’t rust her heart

She became the lesson itself when it she taught

She pulled me if I were to fall

And pushed me to go up

I detect her step and scent

And admire her accent

Though I don’t have eyes,

I have her hands to lead me

Though I was with her just for three years,

The walls of my heart still echo with her presence

She said, “To me you aren’t just my student”

Our poetry continues...