The Occurrence

 

THE OCCURRENCE

Through the smoky windows of the library
He looked out at the field beyond, situated
Next to the pond where bare-footed girls in summer dresses
Sat next to boys flexing their masculinity.

It was deathly quiet where he stood,
But he could see by  their smiles and the flashes of surprise
And delight to know it was quite noisy out there.
The sun was warm, but today the air was cool inside and
So he shivered as continued walking through
The stacks of books laid like multi-colored
Dominoes, and giggling, imagined himself
Tumbling one down, setting off the chain reaction
Until they circled back to the front desk
Where she-who-never-smiled always sat gloomily
Guarding the tomb-like silence with her enforcer´s evil glee.

He kept searching for that title,
Finally sitting beneath the grey trellis in the grand hall
Where “those” books resided beneath portraits
Of patrons and former deans whose grim faces confirmed
That he was looking in the right spot.

Someone had snuck in
A bottle of wine in and
Placed it in the cramped corner of the darkest shelf
Of his favored section so
He felt even more steadied in the search.

That very morning, as he had poured the milk
Onto the vaguely yellow mass that passed for cereal,
He had confirmed the intention that had bedeviled him for
Weeks, laying out a plan for the ages. Today was the day.

The illiterate would never have understood,
Nor would they that mocked or truly merited mocking
Have guessed that the late summer´s
Occurrence was completely predictable.
He would no longer be an apostrophe to someone´s possessive.
Today he´d rise and confirm the wondrous.
No happenstance, nor coincidental array, but Will.
In the end it was clear:
No dragon had ever worn such a magnificent jewel on it´s head.
Nor had one eaten upperclassmen with such enthusiasm.