I was back in the badlands of my alma mater a few weeks ago, before this whole hurricane mess started. It brought back a lot of memories and made me sad at how campus has changed from what was seared into my memory.

I got to share this experience with Ruth, as we walked through campus multiple times that weekend, reliving our glory days and relating stories of our time there. We also explored some new additions and I am jealous they weren’t there when I was.

Maybe it was the 2 glasses of iced mocha, maybe it was because an entire chamber of my heart is dedicated to that town, or maybe it was because I hang onto the past (a syndrome of genealogical research, I suppose), but I wrote a poem about it.

I haven’t written poetry in years, since I was a twenty something trying to compartmentalize my feeling toward an ex, but I did write a lot through college. I found myself scribbling down lines as they came into my head after walking past my first apartment. Oh, if those walls could talk, I’d be in trouble.

In true Simonne style, there’s a lot of hidden meanings in this piece, but you would have to know certain things about the town for it to make sense.

While walking to the apartment, I half expected to see a 25-year-old John with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a big goofy smile. He would follow Ruth and I to my old apartment, as if time hadn’t moved on, I still had a key, and I was hosting breakfast. But John is in his 40’s now, probably married – maybe kids – wearing a MAGA hat, if my assumptions are correct. I don’t actually know, nor do I want to.

I wrote this with John in mind while walking through campus.

Are
You can’t stay here
The carbon, nickel, and gold are far too heavy to cast aside
I won’t meet you on the sidewalk
You can’t park there anymore
There’s an apartment building there now

I look around
I see the tower
From the other side of the tracks
To the colorful Section 8
And the windows where once upon a time
You would have been seen in the room

You fell below the division
I fell north

I close my eyes
I still see those Welch eyes
And that smile
That used to melt me
Every single time

But she isn’t here anymore
And now I fell north
As that cold prairie wind
Penetrates my bones
Still I look for traces of her
And find only fragments of memories

You are not here
No photographs exist
No special places we called our own

I don’t remember what it felt like
I don’t even remember why

And now nothing remains

As I once again fell north