Magnus Grace

I think I live for the silent and still —

The friends you made against your will.

The evening light,

The morning mist,

The impossible odds that you even exist.

What will you do with your one wild and precious life? 

There was June snow 

All day today,

Whispering through the air

I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves. 

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head. 

and they're all breathless 

telling me of the doctors who defied odds and 

the athletes who destroyed records and 

the CEOs and chefs and 

and what if, 

yes I think they're cool and