Writing

There's a young child sitting on the bench 
Her father sitting next to her 
And they're calm and it's peaceful 

In four years 
I will be grown 
I will no longer be a little kid 
Sitting in my father's truck 
A ford from 77 
That he sold that when I turned thirteen
Even though he promised it to me 

Here 
I will wait 
To see what will change 
And what will stay the same 
I wish I had stayed 
When it wasn't my choice 
So I left 
And you grew old 

Maybe this is a poem,

And maybe it's just words of love

Spilling endlessly from my thoughts,

Smudging into one on the page.

Today, in the present

Don't focus on the past

Don't think about the future

Focus on right now

Don't think about what happened yesterday or what you're doing tomorrow

Take a deep breath and focus on right now

The golden, bright, vibrant sun,

shines throughout the day. 

It shines brightly on the first day of school.