Some Things Don'T Need Explaining

Like the mist of an early morning rain and the love of an older dog Like the spontaneous hug from a passing child and coffee from a mountain fire Like a call from an old retired friend and the memory of one who left Like those boots now broken in at last and a map whose roads have changed Like the smell and taste of a memory lost and not the mileage but the miles Like a rainbow reaching out at dawn and the distant whistle of a train Like a promise made for its own sake and a marriage not on loan Like a burden once it’s lifted free and the present not the past Like a thing put off, put off again and the reasoning unknown Like an hour spent inside a dream and a wish that’s more than hope Like your name when called to stand your ground and the courage that’s required Like a song you’ve heard a thousand times and whose words still feel the same Like a river rushing toward the sea and a boy who knows its mind Like a favored son to share your name and the bond to keep it so Like a reason that you can’t disclose and the one who never asks Like that girl who keeps your faith alive —and your heart forever free (The New Room: April, 2021)