Senior Prom

(For 2020 Seniors whose Senior Prom was cancelled)

Crepe paper streamers woven into a canopy of blue and white

stretch from railing to railing in an ancient gymnasium,

its floor sunken deep, a coliseum of old victories

pitting man against man in a contest of wills,

to score, to win, to rise up victorious over our enemies,

enemies only by virtue of school color and mascot, Shipbuilders

vs. Dragons, Blue and White against Orange and Black.

But this night, under a crepe paper sky, we dance

and celebrate the victories of our own young lives,

our own contest of wills, to rise up victorious over ourselves,

over those forces of childhood that propel us into adulthood.

So we danced, just one couple among the many in this ritual 

of formality and farewell, farewell to youth, farewell to ourselves,

farewell to each other; and dancing close we held on in a desperate

embrace to capture this time, make it last, forever,

the space between us filled with idle talk and chatter,

or an awkward silence meant only to slow down time,

anything to fill that gap between us that separates, divides,

moves us apart after the last dance ends, as you go your way

and me, mine, out into a world we may not be ready for,

not yet ready to face, alone. But for now, this night we dance

around and around that ancient gym, victorious, two people

clinging to each other, afraid and clinging to a moment we share.

Today, years later, those memories once forgotten in the in-between

of youth and age return, detail-less memories of blue and white streamers

strung across a gymnasium and of the girl I danced close to, held close,

desperate to stay young and to keep the moment alive,

a moment of youth remembered on an ancient floor of old victories.