after all these years
I'll still write you poetry
you'll still bring me flowers
after all these years
you'll will me to learn how to
pop open the hood of our car
refill the reservoir with cleaner
in all these years
I had not done this for myself
trusting you to be continuous
as a stream, as the sun, without end
until the years sloped into forever
but I can understand too
because of all our years
how you'll will me to be safe
so I can wait clunky as hope
while you are gone and still
be here when you return
for many more years
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Pic: The Red Cedar River in the falling snow.
3 comments:
Oh, I really liked this, Maya.
Nice
Thank you, Nicole and StephLove <3
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