to be

When my poems and I turn one hundred years old

I will show them to you and you will say

I see now this is where you were growing

The words your roots and the page your stem

Trying to make sense of the

Anything everything

When the earth was spinning and we thought you were lost in your head

You were in your gardens

Speaking to the air

Brushing your fingertips on the petals

I see now this is where your laughter sprouted

Bursting from your lungs over and over again

Like you remembered a joke from yesterday

I see now this is where your heart was beating

Syllables spinning in the sky, the entire sea, your reflection

When my poems and I turn one hundred years old

I can tell you what it was like to suffocate

Until the words spilled from pen pencil typing fingers

I can tell you how pretty the flowers were in my garden and you

Can breathe with me