Popcorn

A young woman sits in a coffee shop in London, England, with her back straight, her head pointed forward, and her eyes wandering into the rainbow mists of Wonderland.

"Please explain a tree,"

I ask, and before

The natural silence of pondering, 

The chirping of thought as woven melodies,

The rotation of gears churning into place,

Do you remember

The games of soccer

At the park?

 

Do you remember

The night we created our book series

Roasting smores over a firepit?

It’s where we took that first picture

"Perfect" said the critics 

"Awful" says the boy

"It tastes like diarrhea, oh how I hate bok choy"

But something 'bout his eyes make everything okay, 

Even if his food choices make me start to decay

You were there,

all seven years. 

You followed me around,

like a little puppy dog. 

You'd ask me to the dances,

and say I was pretty. 

You'd compliment my every move,