Cubby

We peeled off your name tag on your cubby.

We cleared it out. You took your stuff home.

It's empty now.

Lonely and sad and cold.

I hate it.

Your name is no longer there.

My first instinct when I walked into school this morning

Was to search the crowd for a red hat -

Usually followed by the rest of our friends -

I looked and I looked

But you weren't there.

I looked across team

For your backpack

All of you guys' backpacks

On the hooks

Coats

Jackets

Hoodies

I didn't really care

As long as it was a sign that you were here

That you'd touched this place.

Your cubby is empty.

Your things are all gone.

I won't see you every day.

It's only been a day and already it hurts.

Who will I ask about spelling now?

When I have a burning music-related question?

Who will share all my interests and laugh with me

Never at me

And support me

And do the little hoppy dance

And who will I watch the Super Bowl with

Study with

If you're all gone?

Who am I supposed to love now?

I know this isn't goodbye.

It's temporary see-you-soon.

But what if something changes during that time?

What if three-hour rehearsals once a week aren't enough to keep us together?

Then what would I do?