A Poem About The Things I Love
From the book, Walk A Little Slower
I love poems that begin the same way they end.
I love full circles, like returning to where I began,
and seeing the leaves turn from green, to brown, to ground, to green again.
And I love basketball, the feel of the ball, the sound of squeaking shoes, but what I love most is how it reminds me of my dad.
How after mowing the lawn, we would shoot hoops in the street below the Florida sun, just father and son.
I love the smell of rain and the haunting sight of dark clouds.
I love déjà vu.
I love déjà vu.
And I love food that makes me hurt.
If you listen carefully you can hear the bells of Taco Bell ringing and my stomach is ready to start singing.
I love feeling home in an empty room, and I love when you text me, and I wish you’d do it more.
I love when the windows are down and the music is loud.
I love black coffee.
Ethiopian pour over, if you will,
but diner coffee will always taste like Saturday mornings
at the Townhouse as we’d watch the chickens cross the road.
I love dogs and most days, I wish I was one.
I love words and how they can move us and heal us and shake us and shift us and leave us different.
I love front porches and rocking chairs and rocking with you without being distracted by our phones.
And I love romantic comedies, and I don’t know why, and I don’t care if you don’t, but do you remember in How to Lose A Guy In 10 Days when we knew what was going to happen but didn’t know how?
I liked that.
I don’t know why, but I did.
I love couches that hold you like a baby.
And it goes without saying because I'm a breathing human being, but I love chips and queso.
I love road trips and carpet and spicy chicken sandwiches from Chick-fil-A, and that’s all I have to say.
Except, I love when we are together.
The heavy loneliness melts away, and you’re the light that welcomes me home to stay.
The hands that wrap warmth around; the look in your eyes is a gift that keeps this list long.
And for a moment, I’m no longer stressed out or bummed out, I’m just happy to be here.
I’m just happy to be here.
With you, I’m just happy to be here.
I love poems that begin the same way they end.
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