Graduation

The day’s hot-the wind like a convection oven Blows hot air in our faces. My cap and gown insulates me Baking me like a potato wrapped in aluminum foil I desperately fan myself and look around My eyes search for my peers and see; The bros that survived school with me; The others who shouldn't have; The girls with memories already wet in their eyes; The people I never met and will never know; All desperately fanning themselves In silence and in waiting. We all are waiting for the same thing- What's next to come. For some it will be their names For another a trip to boot camp For many including myself- college A couple can't wait to forget the tortures of high school And a few will already be planning our high school reunion because it was the best years of their life. As I bow my head, not out of sadness, but out of sheer defeat by the sun, I scuff up my dress shoes in the clumpy grass of the field- that just finished another infamous drawn out lacrosse season, I'll be thinking about the 4 plus years, 8 seasons, worth of drilling and conditioning I did in that very field and on the surrounding track, With a flash of ivory across my sweating face I'll be thinking about All the nooks and crannies that I sanctioned for the intimate meetings of my girlfriends The times caught and not, All the heartbreaks and rejections, The friends made, the best friends kept, and the many lost. The drama, stupidity, and immaturity, Everything that was and used to be. And, all this time spent waiting-preparing for this one moment You can't help but remember it all And with one, final sweet goodby- "NICHOLAS BELLO!"