I call last summer
the "Summer of Smoothies"
for the usual ones made of fruit
and for those kind of men,
you know,
the smooth-talking types.
I liked the thick ones,
especially with yogurt as a base
and with some sort of berry.
I would sip them slowly while swinging
my feet off of the old suspension bridge
that stretched wide across the quiet gorge.
I liked the tall ones too
since I never liked dating any of the short ones
who made me feel like
I belonged with that river in South America.
Not tall, dark, and handsome, though.
Tall and nerdy.
But I couldn't tell you why.
Every morning you would run past me
as I day dreamt in the sun on my bridge
and I wondered
why you never changed your route.
Every morning I quietly sipped my smoothie
and hoped that
it was me.