If you turn hope on high, you’ll see
a little boy who just learned how to ride a bike.
The joys of turquoise,
sitting in the middle of the ocean
where no waves can disrupt the peace.
The sadness of puppies is disappointing your parents,
your heart slowly pulling apart and
a cloud of sorrow following you around.
The rock bottom of October never will laugh,
it is always screaming and shouting at the past.
The hiding place of rain shivers underneath the old cabin,
where the porch extends just far enough to
watch the rain as it trickles down the gutter.
The shape of the past fits inside a present
attempted to be wrapped by my dad.