The cold is coming
the breeze will bring back old thoughts
of long lost faces
we happily roamed the streets
breathing the air called “midnight”
Poem
As I see the no longer steaming coffee on the table
I run around singing my earsplitting, off key version, of Cold Coffee by Ed Sheeran
As I listen to songs through the makeshift stereo in my dad’s crowded room
I remember the days of collecting mix matched parts to build it
As my toast pops up with a Hello Kitty stamp on it
I get a big whiff of month-old burning crumbs in the bottom of the toaster
As the ice cream and milk spin repeatedly in the whirring blender
I revisit the time when I cried at the shattering of my purple winnie the pooh cup
As I start to see wrapped and tied boxes being placed under the tree
I find myself having to hold back on taking peeks at the presents
As I get into bed the frame creaks
I start to regret the back tucks I did on it the other day
As I read this poem over and over
I thank my memories for never failing to keep me happy and well.
Preposition Poem
6:00am on Monday
Rolling off the bed
Pushing past my morning fogginess
Beyond my front door, the sun is blinding
Driving among the green trees and purple flowers
Inside the dark crowded hallway,
We crawl around the pale white walls and green tile floors
School
