I wrote the poem below about 11 months ago. I was thinking about off-the-grid living. I do that from time to time and romanticize it. In the winter I imagine hiding away in a cabin deep in the woods. Buried by snow and unable to come out until it melts by spring’s kiss. In the summer I think of the beach, the ocean. Living next to it’s lullaby of crashing waves. All until the fall’s crisp whispers pull me back to real life. The only thing I’d require in either scenario is someone to make me wish the season would never end.
I would like to find a home by the water
Nothing of any size or grandeur.
Something small,
the size of a kitchen
Something simple,
a table, two chairs and a bed.
The smaller the space the closer you are to me
The closer you are the more alive I feel.
When I wake I hear the waves and
See the sun glinting off the ocean’s blue
Or I can merely lie close and hear your slumbering breaths
And watch the dawn on your face as it rises
Or the stars in your eyes before you fall asleep.
We’ll have no windows
so we’ll have to huddle close
And trap the heat of our bodies
under layered covers.
We’ll have no luxuries
except each others taste and touch
I’ll recall the way your body moves
And chant that spell each night.