To have these moments.
Leave a self-defense class. More and more confident each week. Wearing my nice yoga pants.
Drive to my mom's to drop off fresh pears from the farmer's market.
We rest. On rocking chairs on the front porch. Looking at the sun set around the fields.
We listen. To stories about how we spent our summer.
We watch. Her hummingbird babies drink from the feeder.
We feel. Summer comes to a close. The evening breeze touching our faces.
It has to be a dream. Too good to be true. Not meant to last. Like sand slipping through my fingers. Only a matter of time before I wake up and it's gone.