67

(No, not the internet thing…)

Hmmm.
Sixty-seven,
Iterations of self
Strewn out behind me,

Discovering love letters,
Carried with me from place to place,

Hopeless romantic is the one that sticks.

Ambition and dreams will not leave me alone.

I remember being 18,
Back of my parents’ car,
On the way to college,
Terrified but unwilling to say so.

Then there was this morning.
No thought of what went on before,
Only what I might do,
In the few, quiet, still hours,
Before it all starts again.

The day,
The interminable question: who am I?
The thoughts that make up a lifetime.

Stick to your intentions
Make all of them good
Make plans to love everyone you can.
Learn to be gentle.