The Quiet Fear Behind Applause

The certificate folds unevenly

in my hand, edges damp—

sweat from a palm that never thought

it would tremble this way.

They call the name,

a breath caught sharp in the hall.

My child steps forward,

nervous smile clamped tight.

Applause fills the air like rain,

a sudden downpour that soaks me through.

I see not triumph,

only the shadow where they might fall.

How fragile the moments

before the world tips,

before the proud faces scatter

and the quiet fear settles in,

heavy as the air after the cheer.

I fold the paper tighter,

pressed between my fingers like a secret

I’m not ready to share.

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