it’s mops left on couches.
and homemade frosting on the
cake made by 3 kids.
it’s always hearing classical
piano coming through the
floor, when you know it’s
impossible. it’s never having
a hangover because a morning
with children won’t allow it,
and a morning with breakfast
made by loving hands won’t allow
it. it’s having someone you love
stop in the middle
of ski trail snow woods
arms out to the sun
cross-like say see life
is good. it can be alright
in clouds and laughing.
smoking with 50 year
olds buzzed in the night.
kind people who make
you laugh by mixing up
words in sentences and renaming
animals. it’s teaching a five year old
to play checkers in the morning, tired
and dry bellied from the couch.
it is realizing you are loved and it is
okay to be alive, there are sweethearts
who will not hurt you. have faith in these
true ones, have faith in the goodness
of their souls spreading warmth through
legs touching at 2 in the morning drunk
in some river cabin on some couch. have
faith in the invisible goodness, gentleness there
to protect and nourish.
come upon a blank piece
of asphalt
in the snow street,
and it’s in the shape of a
heart black bumpy wet
the quiet night sky
snowing you
melding and molding you
into soft fresh snow
the brave black shadows
of trees atop you
(the shadow of blinds
gone across you as
a car passed)
a man’s teeth gray
in front and white
everywhere else
see a mountain
ridge when he speaks
a stone coast
the gossipy whispers
of teenagers
in the next room
as Akron/Family sings
“don’t be afraid it’s only
and a whole family
watches tv together
upstairs peaceful in
love and quiet in
the gray
snowing outside
building your face
a ghost wandering
a good spirit
intending to love
and protect