On the windowsill
He sat,
Staring at the sky,
Writing words
Known only in his head,
Leaning against a reflection,
Watching the moon,
Listening to the wind
Drifting through the trees,
Hearing the faint voices
Of people walking
And talking
On a Saturday night.
Riding down the winding mountain trail
In an uncomfortable school bus
Listening to Stevie Wonder
While laughing as we fall out of our seats
From the impact of each pothole
Walking through the college greens
On a warm night
Some random song stuck in my head
Playing on repeat once again
Smelling the new flowers blooming
In the garden near my favorite picnic table
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