THREE THINGS

important: gulls wheeling in the sunlight and Eliot’s white hair of the waves blown back, loving the gentle feet of children in the sun.

sweet-salty smells, like caramel, like ribbons ‘round the brim of your hat through which the many-varying sunlight

enfolds your eyelashes. syrupy sleep as bronze settles into your skin and worry evaporates through

the tips of your fngers, which lightly brush someone else’s. never mind the sand.

important: dust caught hazily in a ray. ten years old, held captive indulging lettered dreams, pressed between pages.

you envy ancient egyptians for the library of alexandria. but then again there is nothing better than the old plush chair that is swallowing you

and the sweet lullaby murmur of highways outside and the knowledge that returning home, there are strawberry popsicles

to drip onto your dirty white sneakers (kids’ size 5), your mother to fuss at you, pillows and good night.

important: the laughter of your best friends echoing across purpling water, across the unrealized arias

of crickets. though it is evening, the air is still warm. everything will change very soon but for now

nothing moves. safety in stillness. later will be the snapping of a small fre until you each drif of to where

you will sleep. you will sleep and your heart is still. never mind time.