I pick up a pen

to write my daily poem.

Its thin expanse is white

except for the red inscription:

Office of Alumni Affairs

and with a start I realize

my granddaughter will be an alumna soon.

My eyes turn to the retractable point

and I know there’s nothing retractable

about this or any moment.

In another year she’ll graduate from college

and this year her sister graduates from high school.

 It won’t be all that long before I’ll be an alumna too –

  unretractable awarenesses of this poem called life

                                                                                                       JDG