Life
In the arc of the willow’s bend
I fell in love again.
It was not the hardest thing to do;
a stitch, a smile,
a tire swing held up by a piece of frayed rope.
That was all it took.
It was a new set of tires,
love is broken knees,
the juxtaposition between grassy sidewalk and busy street.
In the lines of a mother’s hand,
I fell in love again.