Odd feelings coming through tonight of needed change. Maybe the cap and gown dress-up should be endured to mark the passing. Maybe, like white tulle marks you as a wife, the donning of the robe is a sign, and when you shed it, you have left behind the magician’s black velvet clothe, somehow transformed.
Tonight I feel the campus is no longer home. It too will be undergoing changes soon. Just like St. Mike’s the year I left, and Derby High the year after graduation, and all the lovers gone who bought new cars. I don’t belong here anymore. I am an anomaly in this environment.
What is around the bend and do I pause at picnic lunch before I take the journey up again? The sudden feasibility of taking one more summer course, and yet, shouldn’t I be elsewhere that much sooner?
Things quickly change behind me, and what I am in the space remains behind, the secretary, the archer, the student, the writer and then … what?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology