sweep

i am learning to watch time pass like
traffic through bus windows, like a thing
i dreamily witness & am somehow in
the beating heart of. what a gift- how many phenomenons can we
both observe and swim within?
each passing year dilutes me, leaves less footing
for that old, serrated self. i can see the mouth of
nuance everywhere, now
& it’s the split screen that gets me:
how slow we age, how sudden we can go
how one cup of tea can magician a morning
into 2pm with the right company, & how
a dark stretch of highway & a sheet of rain
can be an ending.
so yes, my sweeping arm across my life
is making space for the semi-precious:
the sun peeking through
the bubbling laugh
the slow kitchen kisses.
loving you pins me more securely to this earth.