Or: A Brief and Hopefully Not Unwelcome Respite from the Poetry to Which You Are Undoubtedly Accustomed (Unless This Counts as Poetry – Oh No!)
This past month has been one of the hardest I can remember – not for one reason, but for an ever-compounding multitude of reasons. And that’s okay. Because, hey, look at all these things.
Thank you for people who know what they’re talking about, and for the chance to become one of them.
Thank you for people. Thank you for people.
Thank you for walking past brick-circled windows at night and seeing the light on and wondering who else is living instead of sleeping.
Thank you for sleeping and for the cold autumn air from the open window and for how it can’t reach under the blankets.
Thank you that the heater is right next to my bed.
Thank you that the heater isn’t always on.
Thank you for trees that change color and trees that don’t.
Thank you for the bowl of peppermint candy on the way out of the cafeteria.
Thank you for the skill to write good essays when I try to, and good bullshit when I need to.
Thank you for stained glass windows in the practice rooms.
Thank you that when I am tired of homework and slip into a high-pitched cockney accent or some extravagant brogue, my roommate replies in equally exaggerated tones.
Thank you for when the salad bar has apple vinaigrette.
Thank you for the pizza delivery man who happened to be a mechanic.
Thank you for the emptiness of the practice fields beneath the stars, the silhouettes of the hills in the distance, the transmission towers whose lines hum invisibly behind the trees, and the watchful lamps in suburbs asleep below.
Thank you for the smell of sap after climbing pine trees.
Thank you for the old memories that flow around downtown, for the river that flows through it, and for the close-knit buildings.
Thank you for egg nog milkshakes.
Thank you for Friday afternoon Office episodes, for drinking cherry soda on Friday nights, and for generally everything about Fridays.
Thank you that I’ve never gotten soda from the cafeteria.
Thank you for music that gives me chills and warms my spirit.
Thank you for words and silence, and for how we need both of them to empathize with one another.
Thank you for the way things are right now.
Thank you that things won’t always be like this.
Thank you for everything I haven’t thanked you for.
Thank you for your love, and for trusting us with it.