Hot spring nights,
The world is flowers and pollen.
I walk down suburban streets and think of you.
I don’t know why my mind comes back,
Why you knowing me as I am is something I want to hold on to.
My thoughts jumble at the bottom of the bottle.
I wonder if I’ve had too much wine tonight.
It is a long night of dust and wine bottles.
I put the year into boxes,
And marvel at how short the time feels.
That I was hanging picture frames on a new wall.
This is the first time,
I am sad to go.
It is the simple things.
Glasses of wine over dinner,
Keychains and laughter,
Things to be thankful for.