my hands curl around the flimsy plastic folds of my shopping bag

as I walk home through streets tight and winding. 

it is a sunny morning, 

crisp and clear,

and magic. 

I pause, taking a moment to appreciate

to see

all that the world gives me in this moment. 

taking off my headphones I hear the click clackety whirr of the metro, 

and sounds of excitement in a language I do not know. 

in the sky, I see nothing but blue

and faint cirrus clouds high above where planes fly. 

further down the road, I smell spices

warm broth from rich noodle soup, 

and a citrusy twang coming from the farmers market. 

"all this in one moment" 

I think to myself as I continue, a smile beginning to show on my face. 

alone, I see the beauty in everything, 

stopping when I please to peek in the windows of bustling stores, 

or buy strawberries on the side of the road simply because they looked good. 

tiny things like this bring me peace. 

I know now, that the little things are what make me free. 

Temptation 
Self destruction 
I’ve been waiting sometime 
For you 

Hours 
Days away 
Minutes slowly fade 
Give it up again I’ll show 
I’ll wait a while 
Because I know 

Chorus:
Maybe I won’t give up now
Maybe it’s not too late 
To find all that I’m after 
This waiting game 

I search there far and wide 
To find the things that 
I couldn’t find 
All the hours and the unrest 
Days so worthless 
I won’t contest

Chorus:
Maybe I won’t give up now
Maybe it’s not too late 
To find all that I’m after 
This waiting game 

Bridge:
I once fell so hard 
Long ago 
Waiting on you to come 
But you didn’t show
So now I’ll search out here 
Far and wide to see all the places 
That you couldn’t find 

Chorus:
Maybe I won’t give up now
Maybe it’s not too late 
To find all that I’m after 
This waiting game 

November 11th,

I entered the boutique downtown,

searching for a forever friend.

I scoured all the racks,

red,

mustard,

lavender.

Then I saw him,

Blue, 

slightly faded

with white stripes,

moderately uneven.

I had $5 with me that day,

2 quarters and a dime came out with me.

The rest was traded in for Him.

I still wear that sweater.

I have read books in that sweater,

cried when Johnny died.

I have listened to music in that sweater,

did a flip from my bed on the downbeat.

I have had fun in that sweater,

at the trampoline park 40 minutes away.

I am living in this sweater.

From the time I turned 10,

to this day.

Even though I am no longer a chubby, childish

Baby,

I still love my sweater.

The boutique is closed now,

But that's okay.

In its place stands a different boutique,

Mon Ami

My Friend.

I have planned a trip to go there with Him.

This Saturday after lunch.

To find another sweater.

Who will hang next to Him.

We used to be seven

My curls used to be sunshine

Colored

You used to be stubborn

Naive stubborn.

The powder used to hit our knees

On the days

When we could eat lunch in four bites

Even though our mouths were smaller

Just to get back

To carving Ss

In sugar white cold the kind that left our cheeks pink

Now we know better and wear buffs.

I used to have leggings with unicorns

You used to have mud boots with cats

My leggings are blue

And my boots are black.

I still remember

Like I’ve got photos

Of the way the barn smells

And the looks the liftie gave us

The looks they all did

The way we didn’t mind.

I’ve got boxes of those photos

But none at all.

My funny little friend

appearing at my door

day in and day out

to say hello to me.

So intelligent

yet so stupid

chasing after fallen leaves and blades of grass

lying on the doormat

waiting for me to appear

and sometimes

when I do show up

you stay sprawled right in front of the door

unwilling to move

saying,

Go around me

you have other doors

because you're so comfortable

the white fur on your stomach exposed as you roll around

hooking your claws in the mat

scratching

pulling

tugging

brushing up against me

wandering around the porch

rubbing up against the box of chalk

guarding our front porch

against what?

Only you really know

pacing and nuzzling

sitting and staring

claiming this place as your own

claiming me as your own

you are my equal

sometimes I don't understand you

but most times

it's just contentment and tranquility

living in the moment, maybe

having moved on from the past

and not having to worry about the future

as the dappled sunlight in between the leaves shines on your face

as you close your eyes

you never really sleep

it's just resting

basking in the sunlight

sleepy and calm after an exhausting day

you know how to live

can you teach the rest of us?

The sky is falling 

Please look up

The sky is falling

I don’t know how you can’t see it

Wait

Yes I do

You don’t want to

You choose ignorance

And stagnant water

Over knowledge

And a whirlpool of change

The sky is falling

Dear friend 

The sky is falling

It may not mend

The sky is falling

Dear family

The sky is falling

But to what end?

Will the world be better

Or worse

When we find ourselves

Without a sky?