Graduation

      “Death lies on her like an untimely frost 
     Upon the sweetest flower of all the field.”

Ella, your friends and classmates,
somber and silly, crowd the auditorium
ready to be launched into the world.
Capped, gowned, and
seated in alphabetical order,
they wait to be called
to stroll across the platform for a
handshake and diploma, to
bask, briefly, in the collective
attention of family and friends.

Speeches are made,
names are read,
students move up and down,
and we wait and wait and wait
for our turn to cheer your
transition from child to adult.

But, Ella, your seat isn’t saved,
your name isn’t read,
your diploma isn’t awarded, and
while your classmates celebrate
graduation, we can only
remember and savor
the fourteen radiant years
of sunshine you shared with us.

Christopher Crowe is an American professor of English and English education at Brigham Young University specializing in young adult literature. In addition to his academic work, Crowe also writes books for the young-adult market, including Mississippi Trial, 1955.