At the end of the day, I'm left alone,

At the end of the day, I'm left alone,

the last student in the college library.

I listen to the tuneless humming of my laptop,

watching the sun die

behind stained-glass windows.

The dust motes in their eternal floating dance

will land on my glasses regardless

of whether or not I want them around.

The Word Document doesn't care

whether or not I ever finish it.

My eyes itch and my fingers are cold;

in a few minutes I'll save the file

and finally go home.