Lightly

We never know, until it’s too late, that the butter we spread on our toast as we argue about the weather will be the last buttered words we’ll hear. And if we knew, wouldn’t we kiss each other lightly on the lips, hold each other just a little longer?

We never know, until it’s too late, that the leaves skittering across the sidewalk, announcing the coming storm, are the last leaves we’ll see. And if we knew, wouldn’t we stand in the wind, embrace the rain falling lightly on our faces?

We never know, until it’s too late, that this is our last morning light. And if we knew, wouldn’t we smile into the sun?

Wouldn’t we?

published in Write Under the Moon