I see myself -
wrinkles
cover my eyes,

a smile
surrounds my words
and I

am old,
but I am happy

and he asked me
Love - do you feel that for her?
and I, feeling my heart thump thump,
         waited
for the words to find themselves
         waited
for my breath to not stumble -

If we were to grow old,
I would gladly talk to her grave
until I was beside her

She smells of strawberries,
ice cream on a
melting, runny day

She speaks of blueberries,
waffles in the morning -
hot and warm,
comfy -
snuggled, next to you

I smell strawberries so often;
I hear blueberries so soon,
and every time I do,
still - I think, I speak

of you

There is yellow on the leaves,
they shiver in this air, tremble
at the rain that falls
around them; it is a lovely day today

Grey hangs from the sky,
droops around the pavement so wet, rustles
the darkening daytime light
outside the window; it is a lovely day today

I sit inside this heated room
and yet, I feel the shiver from outside, I feel
the rain that hangs from this grey colored
sky, I am in awe at the yellow leaves that fall

it is a lovely day today

And I stand here on the other side of the lake,
looking at that bridge where we use to meet!
I stand here, feeling the early winter breeze,

listening to your music, I sand here

I stand here as the sun rises on the other side of the lake, I break, my heart aches, I stand here!

Staring at that bridge, imagining your hair dancing to the falling leaves, as their color changes to bring in the winter breeze that you wait for every year

my dog has depression,
can’t drag itself out of bed; it lays in the kitchen and looks out the window,
wondering, worrying, whining about the light - about the window and the view; it never has
anything much to say,
or if it does,
it doesn’t amount to much, anyway; but it’s okay, it’s just my dog -
it’s not me, anyway; my dog has blue eyes - wish they were brown; all my friends have brown,
and they all seem happy; my dog can’t walk straight; it’s loud,
it’s annoying,
sometimes it smells; my dog, my dog, my dog, I tell you about my dog;
sometimes I think, it’s more important than me, I mean -
I’m not my dog, anyway; I’m not as interesting; I can’t come and say hello and all those things
that make you people smile and giggle and laugh; and when there’s a pause - a really awkward pause -
I can’t look at you
and have all that - your - worry just disappear, like that; I once screamed and howled and danced at
the moon, and my dog just - stared; but does it really matter - my dog was on a comfy bed, and
the way it sat; the same place where it sleeps -
I tell you about my dog,
I tell you about my dog;
I tell you about it all the time, for

I don’t know how to talk about

me

can you imagine

growing old?
to see - to smell
the flowers grow

year after year?

to have your love
in such a smile,
and hold it so close

year after year?

to see the wrinkles
snuggle into a blanket called
our skin, yet - we don’t mind -
as year after year

we grow like the flowers -
and I will have no fear for age nor death nor worry
for I will know - I have lived, and I have lived

with you