What Soon Became Clear Poem by Morgan Michaels

Rumor came over the hill
like springtime, scattering shadow
and suddenly people knew
(odd amalgam of relief and regret)
Orestes had come back!
There were sightings here and there:
in the stoa,
a finger of recognition, uplifted,
pleasant but dismissive-not friendly,
as much a waiver as a wave;
leaving the temple, a cool nod to an old friend
in passing, but, no, he didnt stop, she complained,
to chat, as he ought, being gone so long.
It was him, alright, but changed.
He no longer clowned in the agora with his friends,
drunk on privilege, pleased to be
a showy prince of the blood who shopped.
It was different, now, he seemed not to hear, when you said
'Hi, how's it going, man, remember when....'
He didn't hear, but walked
Straight ahead, eyes fixed on the horizon,
Abstract, dumb, a little scary,
answering minimally,
as if purpose lay just over the hill
It was his destiny to scale.
Patiently, we waited
wondering why this change.