On Campus

I say the long goodbye; leave you to your freshman start.
I feel six years old, clutch my brown paper bag of penny candy
want to cry over more inside than the melting chocolate
(they say bittersweet is the healthiest kind)
Is that what’s smeared on my face? It tastes wet and salty.
As our wheels crunch over pungent autumn,
the growing distance between us fills with falling leaves
until I cannot see you for the blur and flutter
of my eyes.