MTC

Hair fresh cropped, his farm boy face

mouthing new syllables to an empty hall,

he half chokes either from his twisting tongue

or his still white collar snugging tight

against a dark blue tie.

Dreams float behind serious thoughts—

he wears his mantle loosely still—

hefting the weight of parents’ hopes,

he opens the beginning of the best two years

of his yet unproven life.