Afraid that perhaps I will FLUNK out, if not out of school, then well, perhaps life, I wander the university, dodging the STEAM vents on this hot day, finally landing in one of the many ATRIA scattered across campus. 

Georg’ann

Saturday Night, Kroger Parking Lot

IMAGE of his back to me, 
waiting. Does he think 
I will in fact decide 
to drive him home. 
Am I what he’s waiting for. 
He’d said that’s where he’d be. 
Red jersey, white arms, 
all else dark
under streetlight. 
Grocery sack retrieved 
from his RIVAL. 
Missed the bus, set loose
late night TRAIN of events. 
Sweaty when he approached. 
“Haste” in orange marker
written down the inside
of his left forearm. 
Brown eyes imploring. 
Momentary chaos interrupts. 
Sending us in different directions.
Wordle let me have it, ARTIC. 
No matter the spelling, 
ATRIA feel cold as I drive away
in the opposite direction.
 
I could have gotten him a cab.

Heather