An invitation

-- Standing close to people not sharing the same moment--

The big open office is empty today.

Never quiet.

Noisy with that hum one can’t avoid.

The hum that made the south- bearable.

Would Faulkner have welcomed cold air?

Me thinks Zora Neale Hurston would have.

Graduation awaits.

There will be many billionaires

Feting their progeny.

And millionaires with names embedded in history books

Sad about their poverty.

Certainly many complaining.

Mostly about being around others

Unlike them.

Many of the young will have majestic plans.

Of fervid adventure and costly lazying.

Others will realize in a moment of clarity

That their expectations may never happen.

I will be watching for the few

Who—even surrounded by people—look to be alone.

I will congratulate them

And ask them-

If they would like to write a poem together.

With or without air-conditioning.