Soon.
Any day now.
See you there.
And now a poem by Louis Simpson:
Graduation
My ex-wife comes over
and invites me to sit
with them. I say okay.
There are a lot of speeches,
all saying much the same,
about the new generation,
the future belongs to them.
They're lining up for it,
walking onto the stage.
There she is, our Meredith.
The sound of two hands clapping
is mine. If there's one thing I know
it's when something is over and
done with, and it's time to go.
1 comment:
i like how this looks on all sorts of levels.
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