by Joyce Wilson
She finishes triumphant, proud to win.
We crane our necks and snap her photograph,
And here I want to emphasize begin
Although the day is at its end. We laugh.
We laugh as though, through simple force of will,
She might escape the lessons of her fate,
As if, because of years she spent at school,
All future tragedies will have to wait.
I swallow sorrow as I scan the sky
And memorize the day as in a book,
Admitting that I see a sweet good-bye
Recorded in the photos that we took.
Copyright © 2003 by Joyce Wilson