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What Could We Have Become?

by Andrea Lawrence 11 months ago in love poems
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If Only We Had More Years

Man in the woods. | iStock, Milan Markovic

We'd talk until the birds sang in the morning.

You liked coffee with a side of cigarettes.

I'd sit in a corner with your t-shirt on;

I ate burnt toast with a side of jam.

We'd listen to soothing music

and search for something folksy.

I remember you standing out in the garden

with your wide-brimmed hat. You'd look at the lilies;

you wanted to make sure they were hydrated.

You dreamt of raspberry bushes and snowpeas.

You'd sit on the ground and let grainy soil sift

around your fingers.

We'd walk around the neighborhood

with our chocolate lab with the golden spot.

I called him Lucky you called him Douglas.

We'd go to a prairie field. Watch the grass wave in the wind.

The monarch butterflies searching for purple blooms.

We'd hike for an hour.

The dog panting for some water.

We'd picnic near the river. Egg salad,

ham sandwiches, banana nut muffins, and yogurt cups.

Play some fetch with Lucky.

You always wore denim and that symmetrical smile.

Your beard sharply outlined your jaw;

I liked to touch it.

We'd sleep under the stars. Lucky

hogged the blankets. Wake to morning dew

and sit in chairs. You'd poke the fire

with a big stick. I sometimes wore

your jeans. I liked the big pockets.

You'd drive us home in your '92 truck.

Windows down; dog sticking his head out.

There was a quilt on our bed.

It was red and yellow. Your grandmother

made it. I liked the way our bedroom

felt. The dim lights, the fox statues,

the vinyl record player, the antique blue glass,

the barn door that led to the bathroom.

We had a big window with a view of the backyard.

We had a vast land. I loved listening to the quiet:

just the sounds of land, trees, and animals.

You were my sweetest love. I'll always treasure

waking up

finding us

sharing the same pillow.

Laughing as you traced

my moles

like they were constellations in the sky. Crying

when I went through

a miscarriage,

and you holding me until I fell asleep.

We'd dance in that room. Listen to Johnny Cash.

I liked to put my boots by yours.

The size difference amused me.

I wanted to capture all of it in a jar

to take my home with me wherever I go.

You'd put photographs of our house

in my hospital room. I loved the picture

of you standing on a deck

looking at the lake. The sun's rays

in your chestnut hair. I loved the picture

of Lucky with a red bandana

around his neck. His tongue hanging out

like he was laughing at a good joke.

I wanted to take all these beautiful moments

to the other side. I wanted to kiss you

while you were sleeping, but I was afraid

you wouldn't know it was me.

I was afraid my touch wouldn't be the same.

I was afraid I'd make you feel worse.

I hate seeing you alone. I sometimes

try to comfort you by speaking to you

as the candle flame, the gentle breeze,

the raindrop out of nowhere, or the soil

that clings to your hand.

love poems

About the author

Andrea Lawrence

Freelance writer. Undergrad in Digital Film and Mass Media. Master's in English Creative Writing. Spent six years working as a journalist. Owns one dog and two cats.

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