This poem is so old. I wrote it for a couple of friends who were dating and who requested a poem for Valentine’s Day as part of a Literary Society fundraiser. It was later published in our first ever literary magazine, which can be viewed here.
The thing about getting older and older is that you don’t notice
Until you realize that you’ve stopped splashing in silver puddles
And picking lace-thin dandelions
And making wishes on them.
You don’t like waking up early anymore and
Instead of listening to the birds and bells at dawn
And you throw the pillow on your head
Trying to sink back into sleep
(and sometimes wanting to stay that way forever).
But sometimes I catch your eye and you take my hand
And I think about silver puddles and lace-thin dandelions
And making wishes.
And sometimes I wake up to birds and bells at dawn
And instead of throwing the pillow over my head
I lay there and listen, and I want to stay awake
Because they remind me of the way you laugh.