Dorm Room

Slamming door wakes me.

It's from down the hall.

Sun's light tickles my face
still lost in sleep.
Leaves gently twitch
past the glass-no screen-
and a patch of blue,
sponged with cloud,
peeks over the top
of the concrete building.

I like my bed here,
shoved by the window,
pillows piled against the wall
so anyone and everyone
can lean back against
the panes and peer up
into oblivion from
an ant's perspective.

I like this room,
the furniture sturdy and plain
and arranged in nice form.
I can walk all over the room
with my feet never hitting
the carpeted floor,
decades old.

Wonder how many students
sat here and studied,
cried, partied, loved,
thought of dropping out
failing, killing themselves.

Wonder how many more
will sleep in this bed,
let the sunlight seep in
below the blind
and wake them each morning,
a gentle push to get up
because it's a beautiful day.

I burrow back beneath
the blanket and let
the doors slam around me.