Graduations can be bittersweet,
Reminding us of all that's come and gone:
All our battles, whether lost or won,
Days of bliss, and days we would delete.
Underneath our pride there is the sense,
Almost like a wound, of something past,
The beauty of a time that cannot last,
In which we shared the joys of innocence.
Open vistas lie before our eyes;
Now is the time for hopes and for goodbyes.

Copyright by Nicholas Gordon