I feel somehow that I have
lived this scene before,
taken these measured steps toward
the final event of my youth.
I don’t know when,
but once, I’m sure I saw the faces,
heard the speeches,
heard my name
called with the rest.
I see them now, together,
gold-robed figures walking straight,
heads held high.
I hear the murmurs of the crowd
as they beckon for the end.
No one realizes that the end
is a long way off
and that this is
only a beginning.
Our teachers say, when this is over,
we will go our separate ways,
and forget the memories of our past
and of this night.
Still, though, I feel
that somewhere, someday, someway,
we will again be together as a group.
