Summer Rain

I wonder how I will remember this summer.
Will I think of the steady downpour of rain?
Jeans rolled up, collecting sand in the cuff,
Dragged in from the puddles in the parking lot,
Smeared onto the chair in the lecture hall,
Where I sit and swivel and sigh,
A deep sigh.

Will I think of the rain drops pounding the dark window?
As I toss and turn,
Searching for sleep,
Loyally abandoning consciousness,
Only to the betrayal of my unconscious,
Thrashing and gasping with fisted hands,
Not strong enough to fight,
The demons of my night.

Will I think of the steady streams flowing down the glass,
Over my right shoulder, in front of the dark gray sky?
Matching the dark gray circles,
The rows of penciled in bubbles,
Rules and exceptions,
Perfectly laid out in baby blue books.
A test I never wanted to take, for
A dream I never had.

Is that how I will remember this summer?