I like knowing

there are little old ladies

who stay up

past ten.

 

I like walking

though day-lit cemeteries

as the people nap

in earth’s womb.

 

I like thinking

everyone is brave

and everyone

includes me.

 

I like imagining

I am the only one on earth

in the middle

of the night.

 

I like watching

the neighborhood squirrel

eat a slice of pizza

from the trash.

 

I like touching

clothing waiting on the hanger

before a shopper

tries it on.

 

I like finding

a perfect chewing stick

for my dog Blue

as we walk.

 

I like writing

scurried notes in my phone

that don’t add up

the next day.

 

I like listening

to stories told by strangers

as I sit and sip

red wine.

 

I like seeing

houses eaten up by vines

as I search for

their mailboxes.

 

I like opening

an empty notebook

to ink a page

for the first time.

 

I like watching

hands grip a microphone for

a song I don’t know

in a bar.

 

I like writing

what could have been lost

in a moment

gifted to me.