Harrington

I have missed this.
The distant sound of Odwalla lids screwing on bottles,
sitting next to the whispered chatter of
midterm papers and lab reports spinning out of
tired college fingers on
tired Macbook keyboards.
The quiet arrival of 1am,
the feeling of detaching your soul from the screen
for just one moment
only to realize the overwhelming emptiness of
the chairs surrounding you.
Where are you Francisco?
I remember finals week, spring 2012
welcoming the sunset
and greeting the sunrise
all in one sitting
with potato chips and half-open eyes,
smiling warmly, victoriously
at the procrastinated products on the desk before us —
we were warriors, then.
Now, I'm sitting alone,
at one of those tables
too high for comfort
staring into the glassy black of the
window reflections
sleeves still rolled up to my elbows
this hulking lack of productivity
looming in front of me.
This is hard sometimes,
and I am tired,
but boy, have I missed this.