At this point in my life
I always had imagined
That I'd be lying on rooftops
Gazing at the stars
I'd have a blanket under me
Because I'm not exactly sure
How comfortable rooftop shingles can be
I'd find the constellations
Maybe make a few of my own
I'd make up stories
Just like the ancients did
All the better
You'd be at my side
And we'd laugh
But we'd be quiet
Not wanting to be caught
We'd spend the whole night
Talking
And exchanging stories and secrets
Enjoying the stars
And saying what face we saw in the moon
I wish that could have happened
Instead I'll curl up on the deck
Staring up at the stars
Reminding myself
You're probably out there
Looking at the very same ones
I just hope
Whenever you look at them
You think of me
Just like I think of you
YOU ARE READING
Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans
PoetryEveryone has that one place in their heart. The two will always be connected, whether they love that place, or hate that place. My place? My town? I love it, I hate it. I've left it behind. This collection of poetry is about the place, the town, tha...
