Springtime – a few days early
we go to the battlefield and dodge snakes
whitewashed bones by the creek, stop to listen
to the sound of a waterfall – or the rush
of blue and brown beneath the trees.
Hug the riverbanks. Birds are coming back –
goodbye juncos. You say you think
you saw an indigo bunting in California.
Most brilliant blue – but I don’t think
they go that far. Soon we’ll only talk
on the phone, or see each other
twice a year. This morning I brought home pictures
spread them out on my bedroom floor,
and we sat and talked. You said
“this is what happiness looks like. Right here.”
One tremendous year – there’s faces
I would cut out of certain pictures.
But it doesn’t matter now – 26 photos
and all of them look like love. I felt warm all day.
Maybe it’s the air. Or the sun, seeping back
under my skin. Or maybe it’s just the changes –
who we’ve both become. I like us better now.
I want to take it all in slow, like the last breath of air
before I duck under. If I swim long enough
it could be like this again, one day.