I am tragically bad at poetry, and this is my first attempt at piecing together fragments of memories spent with my best friend.
Indian Summer
Spent in your company
Late nights, early mornings
Wire curls around a feather and across from me you sit
You knew me when this was my childhood bedroom
Indian Summer
After years of school we are finally home
We are still in our youth
But from the kids we once were, we have grown
And now I am living as one
Indian Summer
My best friend
The narrator’s voice
Helping me navigate through life
Windows rolled down and his sea of hair
Indian summer is about you my friend
It’s about people who need not be lovers
Indian Summer
Dive bars and backyard beers
Indian summer and the Southern California breeze
A story where our bodies bake under the never setting sun
Bronzed shoulders greased in sunscreen
We passed our long afternoons on worn out towels
Sleeping hours on beds of sand
Indian summer
It is the sound of the waves.
A constant, like you, I can always fall back on.
Rely on, shout out to, stand tall with.
Indian summer.
Too much time on our hands.
All those days we thought of everything,
And nothing.
All at once.
You are my heart, my soul and my memories.
