REMAINS
OF A PARTY
Glasses glittering among jewels,
Voices growing louder, as if to envelope the room.
Glasses being raised higher and higher,
To more cheers and toasts by voices.
Eventually, it quiets down, as all the voices leave;
Behind, remain the glasses, in fragments on the floor,
Glittering in the early morning sun.
I remember when I wrote this poem. It was summertime between my junior and
senior year in high school. I had told
my parents I was spending the night at a friend's house and we went to a
party. It was a huge party with maybe 100 kids. There was a lot of drinking and dancing and
general ruckus. I remember crashing on a
couch and when I woke up in the morning the sun was streaming in the window and
the poem came to me. A glimpse into the
past as clear as a photo.
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