I like sitting on porches.

Ok, so that might have sounded a bit....simple. But, what other way to say it? I remember over the summer, my dad and I would sit on the back porch and talk, sipping coffee and sharing stories. Sometimes a hummingbird would cross paths with us, wondering who we were and then darting off, only to forget. I remember the doves, small and gray. They landed on our grass without request.

"Our"...sometimes that word becomes very human.

Its not that I have a desire for anything else... in fact remembering those times puts me into a soft, content bed where I can breathe and watch the sun move through the curtains.

Perhaps one day I'll sit on the porch with a cup of coffee, and watch the birds with a son of my own.