When Friends Drop By

When Friends Drop By

When friends drop by,

the ones who once occupied my classroom

with basic minds and crazy ideas;

I feel the years fold in

As they walk back in as adults.

For a moment I still see

the younger versions of them,

leaning too far back in desks,

Me trying not to laugh at the tipping point.

We talk like we always did,

only now the titles have changed.

I’m not “Mr. Douglas” anymore,

just Wendell,

and the shift feels natural,

earned somehow.

We pick up the conversation

as if it had been only paused,

not abandoned,

and the old stories rise up

with a kind of inside-joke confidence.

My mind races back

to chalk dust,

to the hum of fluorescent lights,

to those stifled grins

when something funny happened

and they tried to hide it

behind a notebook.

I remember the conversations

that seemed ordinary then

but feel sharp and fresh now,

as if time preserved them

for this exact moment.

And I wonder what to make of it;

how the past can sit quietly

for decades

and then step forward

the instant familiar faces

cross my doorway.

How the roles we once held

can soften, shift,

and settle into friendship

without ceremony.

When friends drop by,

I’m reminded that teaching

was never just a job.

It was the beginning

of a long, winding conversation

that somehow continues

whenever they show up

and say,

“Hey, thought we'd drop by.”