YWP

When you are old

Your skin will become like paper,

And your bones will be like the wooden ribs

Of a lantern

So that the world will see the light in your chest.

But I don't need to wait

Things sound different at midnight, 

the dark is so much lighter, 

 the noises so much louder. 

Every creak causes a jump. 

We didn't know the guy 

in the truck 

who's that guy? 

my sister asked, 

and I wondered if city people 

expected to know everyone 

they saw around town. 

Love 

Is like light 

Is like a rose 

Growing from the darkened depths 

Of a blackened bramble 

Climbing through the soil 

the air tastes like honey and promise 

sticky with the scent of blooming jasmine 

and freshly cut grass that crunches beneath bare feet 

the sky drips blue 

stretching wider every afternoon 

I got home from work at nine o’clock and decided that I would go down, through the gate, across the creek–socks mushy all of a sudden in my Adidas sneakers–and into the meadow for a walk without stopping to see anyone.