Alyssa Nasser, “Catching a Firefly”
Another day fades, I wait in our
highschool courtyard.
I don’t expect you and your friend.
I forgot we share a school, let alone first period.
Your friend mentions an award you won.
I mention my recent nomination.
Soon we’ll walk away.
We’ll drift through a sea of students tomorrow,
but we’ll never be pirates again.
You remember, don’t you?
We used to find each other
on the elementary playground,
running circles around pillars.
We vowed to fight aliens on Wednesdays,
and steal gold every Thursday.
Under our light-up shoes, pebbles clink
together, this was our forever.
These days, your friend has to wave me over,
and sure, we build conversations,
brick after tiring brick, but
we used to summon castles.
We grew out of our make-believe armor,
reached the peak of different mountains,
yet my throat closes as
you walk away.
I won’t mention if I finish a novel.
And I’m sure you won’t ask.