I’m a cornfield away from country,
a mazed sidestep from the open road
where hillside lines intersect
and stitch the days I grow old.
I’m a rooftop away from the skyline
in all its glorious window lights,
but I shop for the stars with basket eyes,
wonder clapping in the face of gravity’s might.
I’m a bed away from breakfast,
cozied in a coffee-scented slumberland,
but the promise of morning twilight
tantalizes the taste of taking a stand.
I’m September away from summer,
turning leaves over like the ocean tide,
where the rough and tumble waters
wrestle the turmoil of change on the inside.
I’m an X away from O,
carrying a cross without a halo,
game planning burdens and blessings
in a clouded execution of tic-tac-toe.
I’m a letter away from your eyes,
scribbled in pen and permanently marked.
The simple words I have repetitively read
reveal your voice in space where time mends.
“You have asked for my advice. There is nothing I would suggest. Just stay as beautiful as you are and never lose that wonderful smile. Believe you me, that means so much.”