I dedicated my pen and ink to Amir, Ummu, and Ashrie.
•••
that matters too much.
Just the coffee.
Bittersweet and soothing in our cups.
the kind that leaves a warmth,
without asking why you need it.
The sky, wide and dry,
no promise of rain.
Just sun,
and heat,
and the hush of afternoon.
Settling soft against our skin.
The river hums its low lullaby,
stones resting like old souls,
that have seen it all,
and chosen, quietly, to stay.
The river hums its low lullaby,
stones resting like old souls,
that have seen it all,
and chosen, quietly, to stay.
One of us laughs, soft.
Not loud enough to wake the trees.
Another smokes in silence,
watching the grey curl upward,
like it’s dancing with the wind,
fleeting and quiet,
just for a moment.
There’s a tiny lizard,
brave and trembling,
trying to jump,
from one sun-warmed stone
to another.
We pause,
and cheer in whispers,
like children,
quietly rooting for something small,
to make it across.
No one’s in a hurry.
The world isn’t asking us for more today.
The river didn’t ask,
and we didn’t answer.
Just the rocks,
the sky,
the flowing water,
the coffee,
and us.
Not speaking of the past,
not chasing the future,
just here.
the flowing water,
the coffee,
and us.
Not speaking of the past,
not chasing the future,
just here.
and here is enough.