Day 7 –

What if?

What if we just stuck to whatever came first?

Right before us in time and space-

the faces, friends, fiends life gave us?

What if we didn’t wait to run, feel, fight, forget-

took our days and hours, minutes and decades

like a summer drink from the garden hose?

What if roses really were red, violets violently blue-

and we noticed?

What if the wax from our candles had time

to run down, scattering itself in fluid memory,

cast out on wooden tables?

What if I finished this poem

and there weren’t any more to follow?

What if that was okay?

What if what ifs weren’t so frightening?

Then, could we laugh and turn the page?