(photo credit: a friend, over the summer)

I noticed today,
out of the foggy
car windshield 
just how 
much this valley
and those fields 
have somehow become part of me.

I like the way that earth 
can’t blow away with the rain. 

I like the way the grass
smells in midsummer;
sweet earth in clean hands,
dark soil on barefeet. 

I like the way my hands
get just numb enough with cold:
slip them down the back
of your shirt it sends
lightning down your spine.

I like the way you smile
when the first snow falls,
almost like you forgot
it would come at all.

These mountains always look beautiful
against a sunrise...
(even if I won’t admit it) 

This valley might be small
and it might be in the middle
of absolutely nowhere,
but I also might like it.

Almost might like this corner
of the universe that’s mine,
this small chance at something.
 
I almost might like the way
the car skids
on frozen dirt roads;
and,
I almost might miss it if I left.