the summer before senior year

I do not recall when exactly it happened for the final time

when last we gathered around a late autumn campfire

young bloods, ichor pounding in our hearts and ears

awash in the immortality of the moment

Certain that this would live forever, we quaffed the rich air,

our personal ambrosia

thoughtlessly taking seconds

and minutes

and thirds

and years

drinking deep, thinking shallow, not much caring to savor

the musk of woodsmoke, the drum of hopeful hearts,

and the sparks of adolescence

which disguised that moment eternal.

It was an elaborate ruse we pulled over our own heads

along with the senior class hoodies

that we all since seem to have misplaced.

We felt that fire would burn forever

And we were right, in a way - for that scene does live on,

and likely forever will,

in the warm, quiet villes of nostalgia

set in the backs of our minds, and a corner of our identities

even as we, like the whirling, directionless ashes

are cast to the four winds.

Those campfires blend together now -

new beginnings,

and secret crushes,

and soccer pre-season

and a deep resonance

a fragility

a need

a hope

young, immortal;

That campfire is burning yet in the back of my head -

the nervous teen there who still hides in the corners,

unsure who he is -

still wear its smoke as cologne,

and wonders where it all went.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Thank you for reading this, friend! Hope you enjoyed. I wrote it, perhaps obviously, for the Last Flame challenge. Most unfortunately, it did not quite get in on the deadline. If anyone involved with the actual goings-on at Vocal happens to see this - I would really appreciate if you all could check the calibration of whatever timer closes the challenges. I know it was foolish of me to try submitting so soon before the deadline - but I do find that inspiration often strikes in the hour before a challenge closes! And my clocks all said 11:58 and 11:59 when I was submitting the piece - but the option to submit to the relevant challenge had already closed. I am really rather bummed about it, because I am so pleased with how this particular piece turned out. Anyhow, thanks again for reading my poem and this little sob story to follow - hope you are well, reader. :)