The cast the moon makes on the bedroom floor
The way streetlights stream through the windows of the car
Beautifully broken piano sounds
The colors of the morning; golds, roses, tangerines, violets, baby blues
The smells of the pines and oaks on a gray afternoon
The pressure of the blankets on my bare skin at 9 at night or 5 in the morning
Fairy lights against a charcoal sky
The autumn golds, reds, coppers, oranges
The flashes of white on the colored face of beautiful people
Shadowed, angry skies spilling onto the soil
The light in the eyes on bright faces
The smell if the pages to which I so desperately cleave
The breeze through the greens and whites of the fields where we all used to play
The edges and ridges of the plants in my blank windowsill
The community felt inside of the friends I've been gifted
Harmony and balance in the songs of life
The feel of my head on people's shoulders, knowing they at least care
The little talks, spontaneously combusting into brilliant, beautiful memories that I'll cherish forever
The days of ignorance and bliss
To be continued...
