Eden Hirsch, age 16

I wrote this poem about a recent outing that made me feel very nostalgic. I scribbled down my first thoughts about the experience while driving home, but it was completed in my room later as I was reflecting.

Like They Used To

I went to the pier for the first time in months
As I had every week for multiple years in the past

Families stood mask-less, standing side by side
Idolizing breakdancers and ignoring proselytizers
The salty brine of ocean air
Hidden only by the saccharine smell of churro-scented vape smoke

And things felt like they used to

In this pocket of a pier
The pandemic did not exist

Carrying a spare mask in your pocket
Will be seen as abnormal a habit
As storing spare cash in ice trays
Like after the Great Depression

There will be a time when this is over
And we will stand shoulder to shoulder
Breathing in each other’s churro-scented vape smoke