all that is a home

Thank you for being a home to me, the longest place I’ve lived in my adult life.

Thank you for the eastward morning light that fed my plants.

Thank you for the view of the mountains.

Thank you for being a sanctuary where I fell in love.

Thank you for the moments on this couch, laughing with friends.

Thank you for being a gallery.

Thank you for the the meals, the self-taught guitar lessons, and the occasional bath.

Thank you for not judging me for moving on.

there was a time

There was a time when you’d walk around and explore with your mom. Before you had to go to school, before you were put inside to learn about everything out there. You’d arrive at the park and hop out of your stroller. You were in the world— at that point it was all still so new to you. It was time to explore, pick things up, make a mess. You’d stop for a snack, sit on your mom’s lap and share a sip of your juice box with her. The way the pigeon dunked its head in the fountain was the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t know why, you don’t even need a reason why. Your mom couldn’t help but laugh with you. Pure jubilation blankets the park. Enough for the business man to pick his head up from his phone, for one split second. Your mom didn’t want you to go too far. There was danger out there, and it’s not that she didn’t want you to see it, you would find it yourself, eventually. But on that day, she kept you close.