Poetry About College

The library lamps keep a patient watch. Notes crowd the margins of a borrowed book. Down the hall, a vending machine hums midnight. Someone laughs, then lowers their voice again. We came to study what the world had written. We leave with questions written into us.

Look again from the quieter edge. Notes crowd the margins of a borrowed book. What seemed simple opens into history. Someone laughs, then lowers their voice again. Attention loosens the first easy answer. We leave with questions written into us.

The library lamps keep a patient watch. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. Down the hall, a vending machine hums midnight. It returns us to lecture halls, late study sessions, first freedoms, friendships, doubt, and the work of becoming. We came to study what the world had written. The day continues with a more attentive heart.