I’m gentle with the spaces
I know and walk through.

Every door knobs has fingerprints.
The dust and air is full of ghosts,

I make them free not by removing them but
tidying them up into their own wandering space,

letting them tell their stories so I can joyously
tell mine in the right place, time and words.  

I free myself to the opportunity they provide me.
I am loyal to them and they to me.  

The other day I heard my mother speak to
me in a frame of film, a pixel flashing by.

”I love it.  Love, love, love it!”, she said
to everything she touched and adored.  

My wife was wondering why I was just
sitting there smiling and writing.  

“I don’t care. I love it! I love it, too!” I replied
to the life that created me and lives I will create.

I have done the work of gathering, curating, loving.
I am close, closer to finally  getting it right!