Yesterday was beautiful
in the yellow way
that the sun
tasted like lemonade.
In the way
I used to sit at the table
when I was seven and wrap
aluminum foil around bits
of cardboard fashioned into
the alphabet and strung
on a string that said
'welcome home'
like the time
you showed me
how to use lemon juice
to write invisible
love letters, and then rub
a match behind the paper
to reveal the words.
It's a wonder
we didn't catch
the house on fire.
yes,
it felt like that
yesterday,
it felt like
running through the woods
with someone after you
but that someone
isn't
scary,
that someone is
looking for you
and you
are holding your breath
while they count
to 100
still listening
to you, still singing
John Denver's
"country roads"
echoing
all around in the back
of my mind.
Yesterday was like that,
it felt free with no
rules.
Part of me hopes it feels
like that again
today,
the other part is
squeezing the lemons.