i like blurry photos
and off-kilter horizons
i like old things and broken things
and abandoned places
i like pack bites from big dogs
and razor teeth on puppies
i like to see vultures in the fields
and crows in the sky
i like the smell of cloves burning
and the hissing sound of tabacco in a pipe
“How can you like that?”
is a sentence i’ve heard many a time–
and always, i like to hear it
there were no regrets
a bridge across the world,
across mountains,
across words
and thoughts–
a bridge across the planets,
across misunderstandings,
across watercolor waves
and childhood expectations
cracked pottery
chipping paint
broken china
mended quilts
dried flowers
abandoned things
weathered grave stones
she breaks a little more each day
promises and sunlit wishes linger
i would like to be–
a random Tuesday in April
the thorns on growing vines
a defiant and beautiful weed
the moment before a whisper
a poem on the dog-eared page
the cold river current
