What We Need

What we need now are anxious parents, but we are old, and that work has fallen to children. What we need are summer nights, not too cool, not too warm, time to decide what to wear to bed, and when we wear nothing, we need the eyes of dreaming cats. A jacuzzi would be nice, soft lighting, I need my vinyl collection of Sinatra records to appear, teleported through a timeless air. You need to be touched more often. What I need is a rare hummingbird to come to your backyard feeder before the summer ends. I need that. I need to see you sing with happiness, as you wait by a window still believing.