Today we open our eyes:

she sees parched desert

he sees urban jungle

they see bald mountain peaks

I see pinecones in my backyard

We see palm trees

when We close our eyes

We see beaches in our dreams

even our nightmares never dared

to force this damp illusion.

We were to make a mark

to write a legacy

to put a ding in the (micro) universe,

as one turtleneck would say—

ambitions are funny like that.

they live contently in oblivion

to the golden clock

but faced with a robbery

their wounds are deepest.

“we would have learned more”

“we would have played more”

“we would have relished more”,

they contend, forfeiting the race

while regret takes the lead

rearing its disagreeable head

only to be tamed by nostalgia.

and a sharper knife

that sentiment does hold;

in remembrance of excited feet

like Baby in the living room,

and the satisfaction

of revelation and light

in new lessons,

a hug from one close

or a smile from a distance,

exploration made more formative

by magnanimity or concern,

a safe space we called home.

To lose a home is to chip a heart

and We will grieve

& We will reminisce

and We will heal

& We will cultivate

new homes in the desert

or the urban jungle

the bald mountain peaks

or among the dainty pinecones

perhaps even by the beaches

with our beloved palms

and if we ever bleed again

it will be orange and green.

Eloise Davenport is a senior majoring in exercise physiology.