Trilling keys of the piano
And spring blooms
Take me to a Victorian garden, a life that’s not
my own.
Fall leaves,
the bonfire,
and the brassy sound of a marching band
take me to high school
when marching made me strong.
Crisp cold,
snow coating everything
take me home
to being little when nothing mattered,
when nothing was real.
And summer brings me to you,
the time we were most separated
and the time I almost lost you.
Sun screen and swim suites and part-time jobs.
And none of it matters without you.