These golden sunglasses Appeared on my doorstep The last day of The spring semester, Sitting in a plastic pumpkin.
They weren’t mine But when they break I get them fixed And when they don’t sit straight I keep them Because they remind me Of how finals were over And I slept through so many goodbyes.
The night before We lay in your room Sounds flowing through us like Waves in the ocean, Then moved to the grass outside Watching more shooting stars than I could count. The wood by the dorms was dark And we ventured in in fits and starts, The shadows of authority figures Dancing around us. The gazebo was silent. And we journeyed across campus, A pilgrimage through abandoned constructions To see the church alight in the dark, But the power was out and it was nothing.
I woke up in the afternoon And knew that spring wouldn’t be back For us.
The sunglasses weren’t mine But someone left them at my door And I keep them.