"Get up above the trees so you can see the whole forest" – Mr. Porter

You.

Just the thought seared on my brain

burned in my memory

Bringing a laughter without thought

 Without consideration

without company.

Joy mixed with longing

Hold me down.

I'm fond of what I used to know

words, places I've yet to go

 they're written in my heart- the very top

lights so bright and we can't stop

I'm on the top of the world.

The first day after Christmas...

Lights come down.

Empty boxes and learners manuals scatter about

Our new clothed feet.

Over joyed from the Holiday’s giving’s.

But loneliness creeps in with the end of the

Excitement.

Empty tea cups.

Do I still want these presents?

I would give them all back

To go back home again.

For there, and only there are the Lights

Always up.

Every blind bird stumbles on a worm every now and again...

Did I ever tell you

You are my favorite

Smell

Apricot scrubbed cheeks

White Listerine smile

Mesmerizing bursts of steam

Did I ever tell you

You are my favorite

Taste

Spearmint gum

Lips lathered with Burt’s bees

The hot sauce to all my meals

Did I ever tell you

You are my favorite

Sound

Coldplay loudly in the shower

Joyful addicting bursts of laughter

Whispered lullaby’s stroking me to sleep

Did I ever tell you

You are my favorite

Memory

Clicking keys creating stories

Hooded face in pines hall

Spinning slowly in the night’s last birthday dance

Much of Life can never be explained but only witnessed

There were seven of us. There always was. Who knew 3 boys and 4 girls gathered in one location could cause such joy and happiness. We’d been best friends since before I can remember. I didn’t exist before we began. Alternate reality it seems for such admirable and alluring perfection. A.J. strums his ukulele softly to the chime of Grant and Michael’s soft clowning. Night’s blanket of stars strung across the sky, shining their divine elegant light and ready to descend down and gain our completion. The girls: Merilee, Mckenzi, Whitney and I laughing to the boys’ inane jokes. Soft warm breezes blew our hair dry from our recent Garden Park pool’s refreshment of its cooling waters. The flames from the campfire brown our roasting marshmallows. Freshly made hemp bracelets connected our friendship: Legos that reunite.

A mind that is stretched by a new experience can never go back to its old dimensions

I feel Fragile.

Like a speck of dust perched upon a windowsill.

Only time can tell where it will

End up.

Like a glass whimpering on the

Edge of the counter,

Waiting to be shattered.

Like a small child curled

In the closet behind the dresses

Holding their breath in fear their mother will

Find them.

Like a thin twig on the ground anticipating

That step that will snap it in two.

That’s how

Fragile.