Commencement

By now everybody knows the routine
Mamas and grandmamas bless the kitchen
With feedingtime scent of deep south
In preparation for the celebration

Same show
Same fancy car
Different star

There are no cheers at his parade
No red balloons
No twisted ribbons
No glasses filled with champagne

Only white roses to contrast the licorice robes
Only tears rioting down faces looting smiles
Leaving empty spaces

For some the air is laced with questions of
The fairness of God
For others near the rear there is a stench of doubt
Of the existance

While still others just sit numb in
Bittersweet rememberance

The preacher tries to preach
The deacon tries to sing
But it all seems for naught
Amidst the mother's
Screams