Maybe

Maybe it's the old sweatshirt

 worn and ripped

 pulled from closet depths

 on laundry day

 when nothing's clean

Maybe it's the ponytail

 pulling my hair up

 off of my neck

Maybe it's the bag

 tossed over my shoulder

 filled with pens and papers

 and the pieces of my life

Maybe it's the fresh-cut grass

 that fills the air with promise

 heading into eventful evenings

Maybe it's the semi-chill

 of early spring's embrace

 the no longer cold

 but not yet warmth

 budding in the air

Maybe it's the light

 with which you see me

 and hold me by your side

 making me feel this way again

 so young, so carefree, in love.