None of my friends are expecting
the trustees to rescind this year’s
offer for Gandhi to appear.
To speak at our commencement.
All the preparations have been made.
The chairs set out. The tents raised
on either side of the stage
for the divided faculty. A mat
for Gandhi to spin from.
We can’t tell if the college will have
to do anything special to protect
Babu. If some of the senior
demonstrators, salt of the earth, too.
will sit cross-legged
for the duration of the ceremony.
Take a breath for themselves
and the joy of their parents.
At seeing them accept their diplomas.
If not the state of the world.
It’s history, sitting, breathing in
one breath at a time.
Wiping its horned-rimmed glasses.
If it’s appropriate to make a metaphor
of the past. The memory
of what his example taught us.
Even if we’re a little hungover
with happiness, at what
this day comes to. Turning in
our last papers. Regretting who
we never told we loved. The night
we didn’t sacrifice our bodies.
Which could be for anything
we learned to believe in.
Skein-to-skein.
Each of us crossing the stage
one-after-another.
—
Gary Margolis is Emeritus Executive Director of College Mental Health Services and Associate Professor of English and American Literatures (part-time) at Middlebury College. “What It Means To Be Happy” is his recent book of poetry.
