A Record

Satisfying things:
a shower after a day of sweat,
clean sheets cooling the body.
A meal you waited for,
eaten slowly,
each ingredient allowed to speak.
The first sip of hot tea
after a full-body massage.
The cold shock of water
after the sauna.
Finishing something
you almost quit.
Beautiful things:
flowers
a field of tulips just bloomed,
colors insisting.
Mountains.
The sky at sunrise
seen from higher ground.
Water.
Waves.
The ocean,
clean.
Smells:
bread just out of the oven.
Jasmine.
Lavender.
Peonies.
Coffee brewed early
by someone who loves you.
Clean laundry,
earthy detergent.
Mint.
Peppermint.
A smell without a name.
Sweet.
Almost forgotten.
It takes you somewhere
you didn’t know you missed.
Those I lost:
Her.
Dad.
Grandma.
Things that ache:
Late nights.
Rain against the window.
Darkness outside
when I can’t sleep.
Planes.
Airports.
Standing still
while everything leaves.
Long drives
with nowhere to arrive.
Death.