Waiting in Line to See Caroline

The last shall be first, just as I thought.

Friends with reservations;

“Will she autograph the book I bought?”

The rumbling of conversations,

From cars filling the library parking lot.

A cool day on its way to a twilight night

Of poetry and remembering Camelot.

A crowding at the entrance, out of sight.

Catch a glimpse or a glance,

Of words, wisdom and legacy,

Tickets are not sold in advance,

For a smile or a memory.

Can you recall, at all by chance,

The time when you were not afraid to dance?

When it all started, a time of romance?

A young man juggling knives,

Earns a giggle, now and again.

Caroline demonstrates the arc of our lives,

Of so many children, women and men.

Tragedy or comedy, poetry marks time,

With overdue books and folks on the mend.

Now it seems like nothing, waiting in line,

Remembering profiles in courage, and those we defend.

Parents are beaming as high schoolers,

Young champions, unafraid, proud.

This generation will actually fool us,

As they dramatically, expertly recite poetry out loud.

We share the hopes and dreams we taught.

Oh my goodness, this is not just for naught;

The future, our future, not at all just for naught.

The last shall be first, just as I thought.
Just as I thought.