Student Life

Every now and then,

As I wander

Existentially from room to room of this

Darkened house, cheeks tight and

Pale with the October chill seeping through the

Walls, I have a moment of half-remembered

Ecstasy, a whiff of canvas and moss, a little

Epiphany when I catch a scent,

The palimpsest of something already faded and dusty,

Exhalations of centuries of youth redolent of the damp of rain on stone not lager on plastic.

Then I smile, give a little shiver,

And settle down with Chaucer.