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# Roommate of Streeter Hall
- URL: https://www.yacubdavidsmith.com/roommate-of-streeter-hall/
- Published: 2026-09-26T05:42:30.000Z
- Updated: 2026-09-26T10:36:51.000Z
- Author: yacub david smith
- Tags: Poetry, Just Like Cambridge

Come O twilight, on brightest heights,  
let northern stars, spread unbound,  
stretch, unlock us from the lee,  
so we will roam the grounds carefree.

Like spirits cloaked we cross the Green,  
search classrooms, idle brevity,  
above, a moon, casts low its light,  
we reach the dock on foot at night.

Roommate, Roommate, of Streeter Hall,  
where fire danced upon our wall,  
a candle’s flame, left burning long,  
set tapestry alight—chaos strong.

We swore it wasn’t quite a blaze,  
just steam and smoke in orange haze,  
but campus cops, with sirens near,  
sent us scrambling out in fear.

Through backdoor halls, past laundry piles,  
ducking low, we ran for miles—  
an uptight Dorm Head hot in chase,  
clipboard judgment on his face.

Hidden deep in shadows tight,  
beneath the elm trees, out of sight,  
we whispered plans, absurd but keen,  
to shift the blame on Room 215.

And now, how odd! As time flows on,  
you, back from Oz, near Occum Pond,  
I, stationed where, tall Alpines soar,  
yet - thoughts can bridge, race shore to shore.

So come, O twilight, call us back,  
let echoes stir on midnight’s track.  
Streeter Hall may change and turn,  
but roaming hearts will always burn.