Reid@YWP

My head cold waits at my bedroom windowsill 

Tells me: 

‘No, you can’t do your homework. Lie back down and quit thinking so much.’ 

Tells me: 

In my attic I keep my heart.
I hold it there, safe amidst pillows, blankets and childhood stuffed animals.
When I make things, I break off a piece of my heart,
And sew it into pillows,
Hide it in sunsets,

Sit in the cold gray sand. Like a sand crab,

nestle between each grain and wait

for the waves to crash on the shore. Tell me how

the beach is like the sky, a map of tiny things

Remember the old A-shaped house?

The one with the castle downstairs

And the spell around it?

It's empty now.

Did you know that?

I took a walk
through my neighborhood

just like any other walk,
but I noticed so many things.

The plum blossoms in shades of
white and pink were blooming

in the trees along the sidewalk.