Indian Summer

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.

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