Pompous Circumstance

Twin lines of blue gliding toward the stage, polar

ends of a class slowly unraveling as graduates

cross the threshold into a blank beyond.

I have to walk past you at the end,

where the lines diverge

and the twinkling stars

of the audience

greet us in celebration.

You are grinning at me,

clapping after my

name is read.

But I'm elsewhere,

wandering through

the places

we visited

together,

the other blues

and shadows.

This is the last

chance to see

your face.

To reconcile

before it’s

too late.

The chain

of emotion

between us

stretches, coils.

I am walking in

front of your row,

tugged and mocked

by the memories,

the laughs and tears, that

you burned in my mind.

I am walking through

the past and the

present you created.

You led me on like a dog.

I heeded your words and

placed my love in your arms.

Only after I felt the chain loosen,

stepped into the blaring street alone,

did you claim that you never saw the leash.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Are you? The coil is tightening.

I am myself again, and our paths intersect. I can imagine

every curve of the tilted smile that will greet me when I look over.

You clap for me, opening your mouth in salutation as I breeze to the door.