It meant a greasy burger from the diner on Main st.
A sweaty drive in that noisy ford
with ice cream melting in our laps.
It meant skipping prom
to watch Lord of the Rings on your mother's couch
and never once look at the TV.
It meant reading your favorite book,
and pulling up grass by the roots
to busy our hands
and keep them from wandering places they shouldn't.
Us was the color of the stars when we lay on our backs
examining the milky way
and tracing our names
in constellations.
It meant the arguments at midnight
about the purpose of our lives,
what it meant to be and to belong,
and why the world was no musical,
and no wasteland either.
It meant the only obstacles
were curfew
and your awful cologne.
We were the music on that record
you gave me that first night out
when you took me to the cinema
and when I got home
I spun the vinyl for hours.
We were the color of the rolling hills
in the pastures
when we listened to our favorite songs
and discovered kissing
while we waited for the school bell to ring.
It meant the light always shone
and the rain only fell
when we felt like walking in it.
And it meant that sooner or later
we had to learn what it was like
to be an 'I'
after 'Us'
And we had to learn
all over again
to live without a 'We'