One day, there will be more somedays.
The somedays when the sun kisses your skin
the cherry blossoms shade your path
and all the world hears my heart beat
with the anticipation of Spring.
The somedays when the bronze lion and heroes glisten
flowers even those that don’t usually bloom greet us
in orange and violet and red and pink and blue
a park bench in the middle of the world and an embrace
of rough hands strolling through a park.
The somedays with the blackest coffee or one spiked
with chocolates and almonds,
just enough dessert where old photos smile at us
the right amount of smiles and the right amount of laughter.
The somedays when the stories unfold of fathers and mothers,
how bees carry honey and the burdens of butterflies
whose song fades in the air where we both hear that
one day, there will be more somedays.