10/07/2026
I want to wake before the dawn
and wait beneath the fading stars,
sitting quietly in my courtyard
until the sunrise finds me.
I want to piddle in a flower bed,
with a pipe tucked beneath the blooms,
watering everything at once—
just like my grandmother did.
I want to pack a bag and wander,
to hear new languages in old streets,
to chase the sun across oceans
and come home with stories to tell.
I want long afternoons in the sun,
a toasty nap with nowhere to be,
then wake to watch the daylight
slip slowly through the trees.
I don’t want a bigger life anymore.
I want a life wide enough to wander
and quiet enough to come home to—
with flowers to tend,
places still to discover,
sunrises to wait for,
and enough time
to notice the sun going down.
————-
Looking at a different plot of land. The first one has too many unknowns to solve.
