My First Love

I'm still in love with my first love. It's true. I just can't get over poetry. Ever since that first poem I wrote was taped to my elementary school wall, I knew I was in love with poetry. With working on writing children's books I've kinda put my poetry on a back burner. I jot stuff down, but most times never return to work it into a full poem. However, this week I was able to finish one.

You look longingly out the window

and wait at the door

Impatiently searching out

the one who knew you first

You’ve worn a path in front of the fireplace,

sometimes stopping as if to warm yourself

But you know I don’t light fires in March

The first days of spring are meant for open windows

and airing things out, not stoking old flames

I tried to teach you something new,

to show you there is more

I tried to help you remember what’s worth remembering,

and forget all the regretful things that transpired before

But thoughts of an overgrown garden and rhubarb pie

have taken you miles away

So I bide my time with laundry and planting pansies

I stop digging when I hear your heavy sigh through the screen door

Even before the sighs, and the pacing, it was your eyes that gave you away

Looking ever north, to the day I’ll drive you home

to the one that holds your true heart

The one that loved you first