After the final act
The crowd and performers
Are lingering together.
I say hello to someone
I used to know.
They nod, eyes glazed over,
And they struggle to remember my name.
Their face lights up with false recognition.
One of our old mutual friends
Saves them from our awkward almost conversation.
It is then that I realize
I’ve been clutching to the past.
Copyright © 2016 by Nita Pan All rights reserved. This post or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review.