So Many Details

*Written in 2013

There is some triumph
In never looking back

Just ask Lot’s wife

Or kids that don’t believe in poetry

Writing for the future is rare
As emotion
Tends to be tied
To experience

There is some science
To
“Speaking things that aren’t
as though they were.”

Like when you’re mean to houseplants

As a child
I watched my grandmother
Talk many a wilting violet
Off the ledge

“They want to live”
She said
“You just have to talk them into it”

Talking I can do

And I’ve already given up ledges

I pick happiness

Like a favorite crayon

Color the future
With long tables
Smiles
Morning coffee
Christmas trees with colored lights
And earth to dig in

Tiny hands to hold
Mountains to climb

A pair of eyes
That know what I’m about to say
So I don’t have to say it

Lots of wine

Emotion attaches
Where I tell it to
Building its bridges
Happily

Like determined violets

Quietly outshining

Whatever is burning down
In the past