Graduation
First light slips into view so subtly
We have to recite the evidence of
Invisible contours emerging
To believe that black sky has
Given way to coral-washed gray.
We turn to gather up our
History before we get going
But miss some moments.
Though they hovered interminably
During the space between
Yesterday and today, it seems
They have escaped unnoticed.
As we look behind ourselves again
I see your form rise without hesitation
And stride directly into the morning.
May 7, 2011
Mary Biddle
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