Do you ever wonder
If the blue you see
Is the same blue someone else is seeing?
Or, if, when someone is cold
They feel the chill
The same way you do?
When I smell pipe tobacco
Amazing, wonderful, warm
Childhood memories emerge
The Wizard of Oz isn’t just a great movie
It’s warm popcorn in a bowl
In front of the TV with my family
A rare happy memory
Glowing in the darkness
Of a short-lived childhood.
If I could I would sit in the middle of Macy’s rows of perfume counters
Breathe in the smells
And be transported to a small one-bedroom apartment
Where I pick through jewelry stored in
Tiny plastic drawers meant for screws and nails
And sniff perfume samples in tiny plastic tubes
And try on scarves
And wish I could stay another day.
You might see an ugly old house
Where I see possibilities.
You let me inside
Gave me a glimpse of beautiful hardwoods
And then locked me in
Turned off the lights
And stood just out of my reach.
Sometimes I prefer talking to strangers;
I hold nothing back.