It
was a final commencement and the proud
Parents,
spouses, friends rang through the Tuthill Court
Holding
mylar balloons in celebration
Of the graduates.
As
with the colorful students, so eager
To
be away, one of these balloons, purple
And
gold and shining in the fading sunlight
Escaped from a grasp.
Never
built to endure, still it rose, soaring,
Attaining
some majesty, into the sky.
The
wind pushed it away from us and up and up.
Motionless, it hung
Against
a reddening cloud. I set my eyes
On
it, determined to follow its voyage
Until
I could no longer see it; still, its
Disappearance shocked.
It
might as well have never existed, yet
It
had been brought here as so vibrant a gift;
But
the true gift is the question: What need do
We have of anything
If
it cannot persist in our memories for all
It will always mean?
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