I write of the pain of graduation.
Not our pain, you understand--
though old butts on folding chairs,
fluffed around with speeches by teens,
are a hard target to miss--
but my daughter's, hers, Julia's.
She has loved the same friends since time began,
and now they are scattering to high schools.
This comes hard.
The downside of Scottish stoicism,
as everyone but she knows,
is that, though suppression goes
a long way when the stakes are high,
is useful, for example, when the clan chief wants to burn your roof,
and chuck you out into the ice and rain,
though suppression gets you through pain,
and can push salty drops right back in,
where they're saved on account,
at interest,
when emotion finally comes bleffarting in,
you maun just lock the door girl,
and sit and bloody gurl.
It's no fair, but that's all.
David Ritchie
Portland, Oregon
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