He would stand in the doorway every morning if it meant he could
Memorize the way she cradled the coffee in both of her hands.
And how her mouth kissed her cup hello, still too hot to drink.
He hated how the sunrise always ran over her face before he could even open his eyes to watch her breathe in the day,
But she made up for it in how her feet never truly touched the ground
And her perfume took residence in his pillow so even when she left
She was still there.
It wasn’t hard for him to realize that she was as much a part of his home as the socks that always found their way back under the bed.
And he’d never be able to look at that old, goodwill coffee machine again
Without thinking of the weight of her presence rising and falling on his chest.

i'd like to start an adventure
to start a time in my life
where i stop caring and thinking
and start moving and going
and telling you what i mean

yeah, the ocean will be there tomorrow,
but we know our sunken chests and fluttering hearts
might not make it in time for the view

You know I'm in the twylight of my years
Not a problems, I will keep writing for one year or ten
It doesn't really matter
We have kids here who write
I ask you to encourage tlhem
Because they once were you
Nervous, uncertain
Me, I don't care just as long as they write
Young poets are the future of this site
Young people are the future of our countries