Blue rimmed sunglasses.
They were once someone else's.
They belonged to a boy with red hair,
always in the middle rows with no gaps
spared, endless friends.
Our eyes once met underground.
I know you do not remember.
Fearful eyes. I now recall.
I do not know why I ever thought it was
reverence.
Summer ending, hair cropped,
you greeted the person next to me
before shaking my hand.
We have just laughed away an hour in front of the lights.
Oh, mirabile auditu.