Eva Collins : Photographs and Writing


Memories and Dreams

The University teems with students
heading to lectures, coffee shops,
sprawling on grass.

This is their time,
They are the landlords.

Press Stop.
Thirty years ago
they didn’t exist.
But I did.
They didn’t even know
they would exist!

Fast Forward.
Present time.
A few oldies mill around.

The hunk with long hair
who preached free love
gave me my first joint,
is a professor now,
with a mortgage,
pot belly
and a shiny scalp.

The curvy bombshell
works in the library
still blonde – bottle variety
still curvy – arthritis.

Under the Law School arches
I look for the stain on the ground
where the Buddhist girl set fire to herself
- a protest against Vietnam.

Outside the Union House
Steve Adorjan said
I took his breath away.


And on the Library steps,
Mark waited for me –
his blue jeans and tight T-shirt
contoured by passion,
ready to explode.

My daughter is at the Uni with me.
My past walks beside her present.
She reaps the sunshine,
I harvest the shadows.

We are the people
who turned the world upside down.
Grew our hair long
sat in Moratoriums,
survived Acid
and Purple Hearts haze.

Now we pay taxes,
go early to bed
and take vitamins.

But the party is not over!
Our heads still bop to
The Stones, Dylan
and Ben Harper.

Let us into your midst,
let us watch you dance and dream
while we smile and

Eva Collins