Ode to Judy Shepard

I imagine

your pain

after

you give

a speech

to a college audience.

You watch

someone

in the front row

applaud,

determined

to show

his respect

for you.

You want

him

to stop.

Gratitude

can be

the most

difficult thing

to enjoy.

But you

always end

up pitying

the man

who is scared

to stop

clapping.

His hands

grow

so red,

they look

almost

sunburned,

as if left

in a field,

unguarded

from the

outside

weather and

whatever else

is there.