Joie de Vivre

She has cities in her pockets

And keeps all the people she loves best in them

They pay a little rent and she pulls them out from time to time

To talk with the people she loves best

I don’t have a city there, or in my heart, or in the lines of my palms

But I have a heart and a mind and lines on my palms

And today I was outside

Feeling the grass, knotting it in my fingers

The sun bright and gold on my eyelashes and legs

And I stretched back and yawned and felt the warmth

Of the collected summers’ sunshine

And there, in this city

(Which may be in the pocket of someone who loves me)

Hearing new voices

Learning new names

Watching new faces

And becoming enthralled and overjoyed by the beautiful minds of strangers

Knowing how much they will matter in the future

Or, hoping they will matter as much as

This is the feeling:

Knowing myself and knowing what makes time move for me

Knowing that I will always want to hear a new voice

To learn a new name and watch a new face

All the unpleasantness of other voices, other faces, other names

Is gently blown from my waxing memory

And I move those names to a city outside every part of me.

This sun will leave my skin and this warmth will leave my arms and legs

But I will keep them on my roster

And when they come back I will recognize them, true

And best I will know the names of these, and that I knew them here

And that we shared this sun, this grass

This will make the days, the clocks worth their ticking

To know each, to name each, to be named and known in turn

And to save those blades of grass in the city where it is always the end of summer

And where there are always new faces and old, entering and leaving my pocket.