The sun is coming up on the ocean

Try as hard as my self might,

Friday afternoon

still brightens me.

You see,
that first year in college,

Friday afternoon

was a time when papers were turned in,
when Monday's reading was tomorrow's concern,
when questions were answered or set aside,
with lectures, finished, still not digested,

and all I had to do was walk down the street to Cutler's to buy a secondhand CD,
on the way back home, stop to check my mail,
then lie on my sheets, head held in palms, eyes looking past my ceiling.
And listen
and listen.


And you see,
In high school,

Friday afternoon

was when tomorrow was Saturday,
and the day after that was Sunday,
and the day after that was not important

(Because in high school, I couldn't see three days into the future).

(And I still can't.)


And, you see,
now,
I still can't see the future and
I can't be a freshman in college nor
do I have answers to make into papers or homework that can be turned in on Monday
but
I still
can listen
and listen.