Poems About Life

I know you're tired. I know the kind of tired that sleep doesn't fix.

Because the news tells you what happened but a poem tells you what it felt like.

It isn't sadness. Sadness has a shape— you can walk around it, point to it, explain it to a doctor

You have never asked me how my day was and yet you are the only one

You are leaving. I know this the way I know weather— not from the forecast

Someone told me once that poetry is for school. That it lives between September and June.

Beauty is not what you think. It's not the sunset. Everyone agrees about the sunset.

Not the big things. Everyone is grateful for the big things.

You've spent thirty years trying to be quieter, smaller, more convenient—

You will not remember the quadratic formula. I know this because I don't.

Time takes the things you thought were permanent.

You will outgrow shoes. This is expected. You will outgrow clothes, bedrooms.