I dug up a poem I wrote a few years ago—my first year in undergrad. It felt right to pair it with this image I took almost a year later, on July 4th, even though the images of the poem have nothing to do with the events of that day.

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The cool on the wind and the flick of the flag,
The light in the air, and the night to be had;
What street-lamps do sprawl upon half-busy streets:
A walk to be taken, a person to meet.

How young are we now,
How bold are we now,
And wandering out through the night:
And when comes the dawn,
And when day rises long,
I fear you will pass out of sight.

The cool on the wind,
And the flick of the flag,
The street-lamps,
The sidewalk,
The night.

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