Sometimes it's just the things you forget to notice:
Steller's Jays and dandelions;
California: driving through redwoods;
Truck drivers, but not the trucks.
Army vets;
Home On the Range;
The little paddle spoons that help you put your shoes on;
Churning butter at homeRespecting a language
But having no knowledge to speak or understand it;
Roast pig, (lechon baboy as we called it);
I'll eat anythingGroom & Clean and Aqua Velva;
Faded shirts: Montana, Alberta
Wolf, moose, mountain goat.
Army hats and colored canes;
Black business casual shoes;
Swollen legs and skin cancerThe smell of old,
Not unlike books pulled from boxes,
But more like another century.
One specific brown jacket,
Worn to it's last threads
No good against the cold
Yet still a statement piece
Holding everything together.
Black leather wallets
Just four dollars from bursting openInnocent old smiles;
Disappointed downward glances
Like when your parents ignore the finger-painting you're so proud of
Or when your wife insists your interests aren't important
And your kids say they wonder if they would be better off without parents
When you worked so hard to keep them from experiencing your childhood.
Scrunched faces of indifference:
I'm more of a homebody;
Dozing off gently, sitting downGently, Capra.
Hold him gently for me.
Keep his memory safe.
Don't let me forget.
YOU ARE READING
Book #2
PoetryThe old one is old and cringey. So I made a new one! I'm not a freakish middle school fangirl anymore, so you can read my ideas without internally dying! Now, it's meme time. // (mostly short stories and poetry, with a lil bit of meme-y stuff (idk)...