The shoebox

Snap.
Golden sunlight streams
down upturned faces
arms outstretched
two kids
throw open their hearts
and embrace
the staggering enormity
of one summer day.

Snap.
A crowd seated in the dim
eyes locked on the little
colored tassels bobbing
over seas of black
for the last time before
they take their ascent.

Snap.
A dove as white as snow
flitters through the doors
thrown open wide
bearing fragrant beauty
and two hearts light
with love
eyes and hopes revolve
around her whose rest
as her arm on the raven-
black figure caught
in her gaze.

They smile.

The tardy bell

Here I am, seventeen years
another semester to pour my heart
into these pages,
just one. Just one semester,
just one and a whole new school,
a new city, a new life.

Here I sit, nervous,
but at the same time
there's a little voice inside
my head that says,
no matter what changes,
I'll still be in class,
this time, next year,
closing my eyes to the world,
opening my heart to a notebook.