Echoes in the Hall

waves to new faces,
whose jokes will soon fill your songbook pages.
the shared location for the hangout, the bag of chips we always buy,
the balcony where life had never felt so high.
a vibrant sea of umbrellas on checkpoints,
a last minute karaoke night and the inevitable lost voice.
the next location, plan, card,
the final song, drink, learning journal, I swear to god.
an “are you okay” from the other side of the bathroom door,
you can wait, hold hands on the tiled floor.
the groan of the wooden bench as you correct your posture,
turning towards your friend’s gesture;
either the funniest joke one can say,
or confirmation of the chosen unicafe.
excuses for late homework written on equally worn out sofas,
skipped class and patch totals.
sneaking up on a friend when you find them at the library,
results may vary.
yes, you also need caffeine,
the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.
see it in the future filtering through the branches of a spruce,
raindrops on the picnic blanket but you have grown roots.
when the laughter echoes in the hall,
and they offer a hand, picking you up when you fall,
all you kept thinking throughout is,
no passage of time can touch this.