Homecoming

You can't go home, they say, but then we do,

homecoming football game at alma mater,
wearing the same colors that we wore so long ago,
cheering on the team comprised of players
who could be our sons or even grandsons, now
that we're this old and just a bit unsteady climbing
up the stands. They could be future husbands
of our girls, but they had better keep their hands
off now, or there'll be hell to pay. The band
will play, the air will smell of popcorn and the
sweat of boys not old enough to vote or drink
or smoke but almost old enough for war. No thought
of that tonight-- they're soldiers for the cause of
first downs, touchdowns, pride of school. There's
so much hope and happiness here knitting strangers
into one by token of the source of graduation. The
girls in short skirts balanced on the shoulders
of tall, smooth-faced youth, all wear smiles that
reflected in our faces. We are winning, and
tomorrow is a dance.


(c) Ellen Gillette, 2013