I miss your smile these days.I trace my steps through the summer seasonsearching through memories I thought I lostonly to reappear in instances where smellsremind me of my childhood.I avoid driving by your housein the winter, I hate seeing someonewho isn’t you celebrating in the houseI called home in the warmer months.Christmas lights glistening don’tContinue reading “Nonlinear”
Tag Archives: amwriting
Dreamy
In the days of summer, time slips intothe vast puddle of shallow memories.I sit in search of honesty, making senseof what I will never fully understand.Patiently, I listen and take in informationthat’s not mine, assessing the gravity ofsituations I only can lend empathy to.
Sliver
The air is hot after the sun setssummer evenings pull me in.Nightlife, for once, is fun.Joys in conversations,magic in poetry,and unexpected shocks,reminders of loved ones.The sliver of the moontowards the eastlights the drive home,daylight lingers softy,peace is welcomed.
boating season
Summer has settled in the airalong the shore I watch the boatsgo by on the coast’tis the season for observationI watch closely as the hazecomes then fades in the distanceof the day.
Dance
Patience is a delicate dance, one in whichthe steps are mapped out but only so far.One in which it can slip out of graspcausing damage to commence in its wake.Choosing peace and quiet to sitas I watch the dancers graspthe concept of changeas I try to understandmy own.
The Start of Summer
I walk down to grab a doughnut fromthe coffee shop, smell the flowers,admire the waves, embracing the summer,the new season lingers in the air.
Happiness is
a good bookmy niece’s laughthe sound of the oceanthe color of flowersphases of the moonmusic I play on repeatfuzzy socks on a cold morningfirst cup of coffeea healthy smoothiequiet hourslong conversationsbig questions with no answersaccepting things wholeheartedlyfinishing a poem
Intuition
Drowning out the noise of the day,trying to exist without getting lostin the ocean of my own thoughts.I seek beauty, make stories in my head,dance out the darkness until itno longer enraptures my every step.I’m okay, I say, I’m okay.These are the days where I’m beginningto believe my own words.
In-between the cracks of an open window
I spy a bird in the distance on a rooftop signals of summer in the airheat manifests in roomswith no a/c, the east coastliving drips down my skinI listen to the morningmy morning coffee going colda book resting on my keyboardplaces there when I took this photoinspiring a poem through an open window.
Perfect Morning Walk
Mid-May, midweekEarly rise, high 60s /low 70s, make way fortourists to flock towardsthe sun but for nowI walk along the sandlosing count of my stepsbreathing in the possibilitiesof a new season.
