graduation day

it's eighty-five degrees
on graduation day.
i can feel the sun
plastering itself
against my shoulders
as i debate whether or not
to tell the girl sitting in front of me
with the golden curls
that the tag was sticking out
of her daffodil colored dress.

physically, i am not
walking up on stage
to receive a newly-printed diploma,
signifying the work i've done
over the past four years of my life.
i am not packing up my things
and heading off to a new life.
but each and every young man and woman
who did walk up on stage
to receive that diploma
and who is preparing for their
new life
carries a piece of me.