discreetly summing up their tutor
you couldn’t help but notice them
despite their modest manner –
of equal height, and that a little under average
couples attending class together
always catch my too premature thoughts –
has he brought her? has she brought him?
is this just a stage in careful courtship,
attending a class together?
where will they sit? couples tend to choose
the front row or the back, I’ve noticed;
often arrive at ease, as if they’ve met up after work,
taken a coffee or a light snack…
which will ask a question first? and when they do,
will some slight frisson of emotional thought-wave
pass between them? suppose after the first term,
one leaves, one stays – will the one who stays, feel freer
to ask more questions? or will I sense
that invisible tug of apron-strings…?
over the weeks, although they gave no overt sign of it,
they became a sweet, still place in the class,
a perfect balance between individuality and togetherness;
when he or she asked a question or gave an answer,
the other radiated almost imperceptibly
a quiet pride so pure that it was more, delight,
as one might do with a son or daughter.
At the end of the year, our paths went their separate ways;
and yet, after so many years, so many classes, so many students,
they’ve left a quiet place in my memory;
of humble simplicity, strength clothed as modesty,
boundless possibility –
they, the silent tutor;
I, the observing student.