Resignation

Little did I realise when I swung Into the car park at Calder Glen That by the end of that week in August 2009 My days of teaching would be over. It all began so well Meeting an old colleague right at the start Archie ,a jovial bon vivant From an earlier placement. No fault could I find with the well disciplined pupils Hanging attentively upon every word Or giving the impression of doing so. No, the fault lay within me. My outer self sounded the same Inwardly the elan had flattened And I felt my energy draining away With every lesson and every class. Was this imposter syndrome? Or maybe it was the way footballers Experienced that their time in the game Was finally over, spent and burnt out. By the time Friday of that week came I just knew that I had taught my last lesson. Just before I went to the office To let them know I would not Be returning, I was buttonholed By an assistant head Who regaled me with the kind words Archie had said about me And requested my return. It was not easy to tell him That I no longer felt up To the demands of the job And that I felt like a race horse Which had just run its last race And was longing to be sent Out to pasture In its own sweet way.