getting on a tiny plane to michigan
watching my brother get married
all the flowers in bloom
hugging my people in a garden
movie montage, a rom com
architecture and museum dates
the way the light passes over faces
dinners and drinks and aperol spritzes
dancing and spinning in happy circles
while the rain mists over everything

i keep writing
'these are the days'

and it takes on a new meaning at every
turning of the page
a few days later
is it summer sadness
it it slow hot madness
the seep or creep of depression
a weight or blandness
a division without diagnosis
an e.e. cummings poem
nothing

these are the days, i wrote, so happily!
so buoyantly!

finding the sun, finding the songs
if i'm going to do one thing in this life
it's keep on keeping on

they say
these are the days
proving grounds
these are the days



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