For P *

I remember I wore my red tunic
and you your glitter skirt
when I recall that cinnamon day.
The sun shone warm and with a fresh season upon us
we set out through the newness,
letting it seep slowly into our pores.
I remember a green canopy above us
when we bought our lunch that day.
You didn't finish yours
but the drinks were cold
and the steps beneath us cool
and I sucked a cinnamon candy as we sat.
Nothing really remarkable but fresh air
and warm sun and us together.
Talking or not talking,
walking or not walking.

If this is to be my life, I accept.
So long as you save a few days for me.
If this is my life,
give me a few more cinnamon days.

*also for C who wasn't a part of this particular day but who, as well, I am grateful to for enriching my life with cinnamon days.


P said...

thanks! and just at the right time when I was feeling sorry for myself seemingly to always have to work whenever my favorite two people get together. It makes me remember that I'll have many other times to rant and rave and laugh and sigh with the two people who probably understand my weirdo mind the best.

ccap said...

Frick you're a good writer. I could read your poetry and prose every day.

beckster said...

Times like these make me jelous. Why can't I have a relationship with anyone like that, and yet happy for you to have found that in your life.

cornelia said...

Bec, it may take time... you kind of have to grow into friendships, just like anything else...