I don’t believe that you’ll love me forever.
Only for a time, like the long second
When an oncoming car nearly swerves into your lane.
I realize already in March that spring is fleeting,
And so are our bodies, even our souls.
The starless darkness of another city night rests above me.
I’m used to its songs: owls, raccoons, cars moaning hip hop.
I come here so often to remember
That I sometimes forget the noises.
I have become one with the night.
Samuel Hovda is an undergraduate at Winona State University studying Literature and Creative Writing. He has been published in Poetry Quarterly, Midwest Literary Magazine, and the bad futurist. He was a finalist for the 2011 Rebecca Lard Award for Poetry.