High Noon

And in all of this.

Through all this photo reel.

Through all the words I wrote

and erased and composed and

poured into.

In all the sleepless nights

and starlit drives

and parking lots

and chance and odds,

there lingers a version so different

than the reality that came to be known.

In all of this

it will be looked for and memorized

through all the rising suns

and dipping moons,


for it will always pain me

to miss you in the noon.


Let me take you to my garden.

Let me take you to where I bloom.

Where my little patch of earth

of ocean and mountains, bright in hue,

can sing a song in the light of the moon.

Whether day, whether night,

it is where you’ll find me,

kept safe in loving, helpful harmony.

Please know that there is more

than what you’ve seen—


In your garden, I became a wallflower.

But in mine, you consumed the wildflowers.