I Love Life, Thank You

Dear Digital Diary,

in the Fall of 2023, I wrote a poem.

Come Back to Earth and remember to look to the sky

whether it’s blue or orange or starry.

Gaze at the moon,

though it’s just a sliver.

Turn on the radio,

stations 99.7 and 105.5.

Listen to Mac Miller,

so you can sing the words with me.

Inhale the pollen of spring flowers,

lilacs that cause sneezing.

Smell the snow in the air

or try to, because only some can.

Taste the spice in pumpkin pie,

cinnamon, clove, and ginger.

Lick the salt on skin,

brine of the sea.

Run through the grass,

spiny from the heatwave.

Touch the arm of your mother

and give her a hug

because someday you will be just a soul

who cannot hug their mother

or eat pumpkin pie

or smell lilacs

or look at the sky

or listen to Mac Miller —

Though it’s possible a soul can still listen to Mac Miller.

But that’s not for us to know just yet:

I’ve got two tickets to his show

that he plays in heaven,

but not until the world Spins enough to make us old.