The check has been cleared, but not the land. Friends and neighbors don't know where to turn, the village our only common ground. No body of water in close proximity. As long as we don't look down we're okay. During the meeting it seems appropriate to wax nostalgic, easing into the gentle cycle, to embrace or ignore a dream that's been gathering lint in the freebie bin.
Darkness forces the bulbs, loyal to the end, but they grow up too fast.
Many now are in school. They, too, set their sights. Someday they may return, but only if they have something to offer, and only if a stipend or a key is awarded. Once through the door, we wash up and try to forget the whole thing. The younger the sooner the better the faster.