Jumbled Landscapes

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An ache blooms

somewhere inside me

as I see houses dotted with holiday lights

and glass bulbs hanging on bare branches

at the same time that I realize 

it is time to move on.


I pass houses and look at the sun lacing through the trees

and wonder what it might be like to be here during the summer. 

I pass a yellow van and think of how I told you last month 

that it would be fun to have a van like that 

and drive across different landscapes.


I take pictures of the street using my new photo app 

that doesn’t show me the pictures right away

and allows them to develop first.

I slip my phone back in my pocket

hoping I caught the light just right.


I return home through the front door and turn on the kettle

to use the last spoonfuls of my coffee grounds.

I am a jumble of longing, stillness, joy.

As I pour the boiling water,

I am grateful that I can choose to brew myself coffee

in the late afternoon. 

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