Here is a poem I wrote about a year ago in poetry class. I wanted to write a poem about poetry and why I love it so much.

Poetry

i find it in soaked pillow cases

after heartbreak, just before dusk.

dusty rose puffed eyes, patent veins.

and i see it in my mother’s eyes

that look just like the earth,

she smells like rain, i hear her laugh.

i find it in the static of an old song

during a four hour car ride, and i

feel the same way again. sunken nostalgia.

and i see it in the steady waves

of Brenton Point, and it reminds

me of when i was a hurricane. grey.

i find it in the bitterness of my mouth,

liquor leftover and giggles between hiccups.

it’s in my youth, my friends and their messy hair.

and i see it in the smoke, it lingers into

the big dipper. high up in the mountains,

high in a cemetery. i don’t mind the cliché.

i find it in the squeeze of my father’s hand,

and the solace of his warmth. my protector and

my watery eyes when he tells me he’s proud.

and i see it in the colors outside dusty windowsills.

waiting until sunset, waking up for sunrise. new

routines that even surprise me. and it’s beautiful.

i find it in the usual things, memories and

heartbeats. meltdowns and headaches.

and i see it in scribbled papers, inked palms

and my callused hands. a poetic vice.