Cherries in the Sun, by Charlie Grosso

I have not known God as you do or blue blood running through my veins.
No inheritance, nor near death experiences.
My story is uncommon
and I am broken beautiful.
I hunger and strive and am at peace and anxious simultaneously so
I can’t find words for the push and go.
All the tiny fractures? Baggage to unburden? Or compass bearing to help me navigate?
Honestly, I can’t tell you the difference.

I brew up a pot of coffee every morning and have it in a blue mug. The same mug, from the first time I wandered the world alone.
I say a little thank you for the way the mug is perfect just so.
A little thank you for the crisp apple, the hot oatmeal, finding the right playlist for the day without much ado.
Some nights I think about all the times I have loved and wonder how
I got to be this way —
eager to love and eager to leave.
Freedom taste like love and I am waiting for you who crave both.
Or me to expand enough to allow for both

You are not yet here but I want to say a little thank you
For all the mornings and nights and mid-afternoons
For letting me be free and for being home
For heeding the call of adventure on your own and coming with me just the same
For all the moments of anger and the love after
For the loving my Guinness Chocolate Cake and overcooking the chicken.
For waiting for me, for showing up, for being you.

I promise you when you come around, I will do my best to stay.

I think I miss you but maybe it is just this song.

Until you….thank you.

 

 

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