Sunday, November 5, 2006
pedestals
Thousands
cheer,
chant,
and clap
as one of their own
is proudly carried toward the
lofty pedestal.
The audience
urges him
up the stairway,
step by step,
higher and higher,
far above the masses
on the prominent platform.
The media is there
with lights,
cameras
and prime-time coverage.
Publishers huddle
around the base,
for they know
pedestal-people
sell well.
The crowds
on satellite hook-ups
hang on
every last word,
for he seems
so close to eternity.
Yet he feels
unsure,
unworthy,
afraid
and very alone . . .
But at that height
no one notices,
no one questions,
no one confronts.
And so,
in a split second,
the trap door swings,
the noose tightens,
the crowd gasps.
Undeterred, the mob moves on
to build more pedestals;
to encourage another
of their own
up the starlit steps.
But mostly
to wonder
why those
at the pinnacle
keep falling
from the heights.
© 1988 James N. Watkins
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