Good Day

Even in the midst

of the crisis of a lifetime,

a sea change, a crack in time

that changes everything that was

to everything that is

as I look ahead through fog

at everything that will be,

sometimes there’s a good day.

Today

I showed the kids our new house

and they loved it,

filled it with their laughter and excitement,

their playing, running, love.

Earlier

we went to the big playground,

the one with the towers and the slides

high like skydiving,

and they dove and flew,

and before that, church

full of its loving arms and smiles.

For dinner

I made grilled cheeses and tuna melts

and they came out perfect,

crispy buttery outside,

flaky creamy inside,

an explosion of taste,

and there were smiles on their little faces.

And then you

built me up with your words again.

Those perfect words,

just what I need at any moment,

and you write them, speak them

like no one can

because you are poetry

and I love poetry more than anything.

And I smoked a crazy Alice

and a bowl full of weed

and I smiled.

The only thing missing

was that you weren’t here.

You’ve only ever

seen and smelled the smoke

but I want to show you

that where there’s smoke there’s fire,

and maybe one day,

we can finally

make poetry.