The candle light glow and laughter
Flow from the bay window at the fronT
Of the little white house on the
Mossy covered college street with
Lawn chairs thrown about
A game of comics to pass the time,

Humming turns to whistling and
We giggle after we all start yelling
‘Ain’t no mountain high enough,’
Feeling as young as we’ll get
In the vibrant normalcy of a Friday night